Road to Recovery
by cywsaphyre
Summary: Since turning fifteen, Harry has spent seven years in Azkaban. Now that his innocence has finally been proven and he is released, what will it take to get the former Harry back? Will they ever be able to? And what happens with Voldemort now? AU.
1. The Truth Revealed

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Firstly, I honestly have no idea why I've started another fic what with four others I still haven't finished and have no intention of stopping, except that this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. This will be my first Harry Potter fic, so please have some patience with it.**

**Note 2: Secondly, I've read other Harry-goes-to-Azkaban fics but in all of them, he always, one way or the other, manages to get some sort of awesome power, and then, when the people who put him there finally gets their heads out of their asses and releases him, he comes out and kicks Voldie's ass. I've got nothing against those fics and I really like some of them (one in particular – Redemption by krtshadow – you might want to check it out), but I thought I'd try my hand on one that has a Harry who is actually affected by Azkaban.**

**Full Summary: Since turning fifteen, Harry has spent seven years in Azkaban. Now that his innocence has finally been proven and he is released, what will it take to get the former Harry back? Will they ever be able to? And what happens with Voldemort now? AU starting the summer before fifth year though a few events before that will be different.**

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**Chapter 1 – The Truth Revealed**

_It takes years to build up trust; it takes only suspicion, not proof, to destroy it._

_-Unknown_

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**-July 31****st****, 2002-**

"It's about time, I say," Moody growled as he stomped towards one of the holding cells. "All the Death Eaters we've captured so far are just the lackeys. I'm retiring if we don't get something out of this one."

Keeping pace beside him, Tonks rolled her eyes as she pushed back her hair. She had chosen to go with electric blue today. "Mad-Eye, you've been threatening that for years. Everyone knows you don't mean it." They swept down a flight of stairs and it was only Moody's fast hand hauling her upright that stopped her from face-planting at the bottom of the steps.

"Watch where you're going!" Her old mentor snapped for the umpteenth time since they had met. "It's nothing short of a miracle that you've lasted this long."

Tonks huffed but took no insult. Mad-Eye had been scolding her for her clumsiness for years. It didn't change the fact that she was still a fantastic Auror through and through.

Glancing behind her at the other two wizards following them, she asked, "Albus, you didn't tell us who was captured."

The Hogwarts Headmaster had simply fire-called them at three in the morning, informing them of a high-ranking Death Eater being captured in a skirmish near Hogsmeade.

Albus inclined his head as they moved down a dimly-lit corridor. "We were lucky enough to apprehend a Death Eater publicly-known to be part of Voldemort's inner circle; Antonin Dolohov."

Moody's head snapped around even as his magical eye stilled in its socket. "Someone stunned Dolohov? Who?"

Albus shook his head. "Pure luck. A stray stunner hit him before he could Disapparate."

Moody grunted, speeding up. "Doesn't matter; at least we have him now."

The four wizards finally came to a stop in front of a cell and Kingsley moved forward to unlock it. They filed in, eyes immediately drawn to the disheveled man bound tightly to a metal chair. Dark eyes flickered upwards to take them in, a sneer already marring his features, before turning to stare forward again.

"Anyone with Veritaserum?" Kingsley asked, locking the cell door with quick efficiency.

Moody stepped forward, drawing out a small vial of colourless liquid. Without mercy, he jerked the Death Eater's head back and quickly applied three drops.

"What's your name?" Moody started after a moment to let the truth serum kick in.

Dolohov struggled for only a second before his eyes glazed over slightly and he answered, "Antonin Dolohov."

Moody glanced at Albus before stepping back to let the older wizard take over. Albus moved forward, blue eyes cold now as he questioned, "What does Voldemort know regarding spies in his ranks?"

"He does not know of any spies," Dolohov intoned. "Though he still suspects Blaise Zabini."

Albus frowned as Tonks and Kingsley exchanged a glance behind him. "What do you or the other Death Eaters know regarding spies in the ranks?"

"We suspect the Dark Lord's left hand of course," The sneer came back full force. "Our Lord will realize Snape's treason one day."

"So long as Voldemort doesn't suspect him," Tonks murmured quietly. "He'll be alright."

Albus shared a relieved look with Moody before turning back to the prisoner. Their spies were still relatively safe. His mind turned to other questions, the problem that had been nudging insistently against his mind for a while now coming to the forefront. He thought of the date as he continued gravely, "Does Voldemort have enough strength to break into Azkaban?"

"Yes," Dolohov replied distantly.

Albus frowned as he thought of one particular prisoner who would no doubt be a great asset to Voldemort. "Why has he not done so yet?"

"There is no one there he wants to break out."

Albus' frown deepened. "What of his Death Eaters?"

Dolohov actually managed a scoff. "What of them? The people you've captured don't rank higher than trash to the Dark Lord."

Moody shifted impatiently beside the Headmaster. "What of Potter?"

Tonks and Kingsley exchanged another glance. Neither of them actually knew Harry Potter; they just knew not to bring the former Saviour up with anyone.

In front of them, Dolohov had stilled before a hacking laugh slowly filled the cell, ringing off the walls. "What of him?" He finally asked, dark amusement glinting in his eyes.

All of Mad-Eye's instincts were screaming at him that things were about to take a very sharp turn. His magical eye whizzed dizzily in its socket before pinning the Death Eater in place.

Yet it was Albus who finally spoke, voice quiet and loud at the same time. "Why has Voldemort not broken Harry Potter out yet?"

A smirk pulled back Dolohov's lips. "Why should he? Our Lord has Potter exactly where he wants him."

All four Light wizards were very still. Tonks could attest to the fact that she had stopped breathing as her entire being rebelled against the dawning suspicion sparking at the back of her mind. Beside her, Kingsley's face had turned stony in its countenance, arms crossed in front of him as he stared down at Dolohov.

Albus tried to ignore the dread wrapping sly fingers around his heart as he forced out another question. "Why would Voldemort want Harry in Azkaban?"

Another half-mad laugh as Dolohov didn't even bother holding back anymore. "You're all fools! Fools, every one of you! Our clever Lord put him there, of course! Why bother killing the Potter boy when his own people can condemn him to hell! Why waste time on him when you're perfectly capable of keeping him locked away-"

The Death Eater was cut off from his rant as Mad-Eye shut him up with a sharp backhand. Both of his eyes were focused on Albus, who suddenly looked his age, shoulders tensed in the way someone's did when bracing himself for bad news.

"What happened," Albus asked, half-afraid of the answer. "to Harry Potter on July 31st, 1995?"

And, to their growing horror, Dolohov, an ugly grin on his face even as blood dripped down his chin from his split lip, laid out the truth in front of them.

"The Dark Lord brought myself, Yaxley, and Selwynn to Potter's household. Easier than killing an infant when we took down those muggles you placed him with. It was a simple matter for Yaxley to knock out Potter before taking him out of the house. Selwynn planted the books on fiendfyre and dark curses in his room and our Lord used Potter's wand to torture Potter's relatives before setting the entire neighborhood ablaze. The rest," The grin grew as laughter-crazed eyes took in their silent horror. "Well, you so generously finished for us."

The Veritaserum finally wore off but Dolohov didn't stop laughing until Moody pulled out his wand and stunned him, lips tight with fury. His magical eye had never wavered from Albus.

In the horrified silence that followed, it was Tonks who summed it up best.

"_Shit._"

**r.R.r**

Barely half an hour later, Albus had assembled everyone in Grimmauld Place to an emergency meeting, from Aurors to spies to Hogwarts teachers. Every single Order member was there, and the kitchen had to be magically enlarged to fit everyone in.

Murmured conversations were taking place all over the room. There hadn't been such a large meeting since after Harry Potter's impromptu incarceration, and everyone was dreading it.

Sirius was the last in the household to stagger in, still on the haggard side as he slumped down in a chair beside Remus. "What's going on?" The ex-convict yawned, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

Remus frowned worriedly at his best friend. Sirius had been working himself to the bone ever since Harry had been revealed as a servant of Voldemort. Like always, anger bubbled in his stomach at the thought of his dead friend's son. He still couldn't understand how Harry could betray them like he had.

"I'm not sure," He said instead. "Albus just called a group meeting. He didn't say about what."

Remus glanced around. Tonks was still missing, as was Kingsley and Mad-Eye, and he prayed that nothing had happened to them.

The fire roared in the sitting room and Albus strode in seconds later, not really looking at any of them as he took his place near the front of the room. Many immediately noted the severe lines on his face and assumed the worse. Three of their members were not here; they had to be captured or dead.

Albus scanned the room, for once, not quite sure how to proceed. He cleared his throat but the occupants were already quiet, all eyes staring back at him.

"I'm afraid," He forced past the tightness in his throat. "I have bad news."

"Have they been captured?" Emmeline called from the left of the room, arms crossed tightly across her chest as she tried to keep the emotion from her voice.

Albus was taken aback for a confused moment. His mind hadn't been able to process anything but Dolohov's words since the truth had been revealed. He glanced around the kitchen, picking up the tension and fear on many faces as his mind finally caught on to what they were all so worried about.

"No, no," He denied hastily. "Alastor, Kingsley, and Tonks are at the Ministry. They're clearing up a... certain matter."

Relief spread across the room as some even slumped in their seats. Near the back, Severus studied the Headmaster. He was one of the few who knew Dolohov had been captured earlier. Albus had discovered something. Severus wasn't sure whether to interpret the pensive expression on the older wizard's face as good or bad.

Albus held up a hand for silence, and everyone quieted down again. "Earlier," He began again. "We captured a member of Voldemort's inner circle; one Antonin Dolohov."

He paused as a ragged cheer was momentarily raised, before continuing, "Alastor administered Veritaserum and I proceeded to interrogate Dolohov. As was expected, Blaise is still somewhat suspected," Nervous energy spiked at this even as Blaise retained a neutral expression. "And some of the Death Eaters still have suspicions about Severus."

Again, an agitated murmur rippled through the kitchen. Severus just sneered. That was hardly new information.

"We also discovered something else," Albus paused, carefully keeping his eyes on Sirius. Meeting this man's gaze as he delivered the damning news was the very least he could do. "It is about Harry."

The room was plunged into silence, cold and stony as many of them took on hard eyes and grim features.

Closing his eyes briefly, Albus quickly, quietly, but so very, very loudly in the deadened silence of the packed kitchen, explained what really happened on the fifteenth birthday of Harry Potter. How Voldemort had not told anyone, not even Severus or Bellatrix or Lucius, of his plan save the three that he had known to be most discreet for fear of word leaking back to the Order. How Harry's and Voldemort's wands were brother wands, which was why Voldemort had had little trouble using Harry's wand in the teen's stead. And how the blood wards didn't work after all because it took love, even just a tiny glimmer of it, between Number Four Privet Drive's occupants, and there hadn't even been that much between them. It took everything he had not to flinch at the frigid, blank, grey stare of Sirius Black.

He paused as the revelation came to an end before expanding, "Alastor, Kingsley, and Tonks are getting Harry cleared right now. They should be back with good news quite soon."

With nothing else to say, Albus had no choice but to let his voice die away into the stilted, horrified air.

Surprisingly enough, it was not Sirius who spoke first. The Marauder was frozen in his seat, no movement save the trembling, white-knuckled grip he had on the edge of the table. His entire face had drained of color and he honestly looked worse than he had after escaping Azkaban.

Instead, a hysterical half-shout, half-scream wrenched the air and Ronald Weasley hurtled forward, wand already out, eyes wild and expression twisted as he lunged for the Headmaster.

"YOU SAID!" Ron roared, wand raised only for Bill and Charlie to wrestle it down again and hold him down, their own faces pale. Ron was beyond reason as he struggled with all he had against his brothers' grip. "YOU SAID THERE WAS EVIDENCE! YOU SAID EVERYTHING POINTED TO HARRY BEING A MURDERER! YOU SAID-!"

His voice cracked, but instead of falling silent, he rounded on Sirius instead. "And you!" He snarled, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. "You're his godfather! You were thrown into Azkaban without a trial too! And then YOU GO AND DO THE EXACT SAME THING, YOU BLOODY HYPOCRITE!"

Sirius recoiled from the words but showed no other signs of life as his suddenly empty gaze dropped to the wooden table. Beside him, Remus had pushed away from the table and had dropped his head into his hands, fingers entangled tightly in his hair.

As if all the words had taken the energy out of him, Ron suddenly sagged between his brothers, and they carefully manoeuvred him into his chair again where he proceeded to slump against the back of it, wand clattering to the ground from lifeless fingers.

The grim silence that fell again was broken by the continuous whoosh of flames. A moment later, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Kingsley trooped in. Mad-Eye barely gave the room a cursory look before barking at Albus, "He's cleared. I'm going to get the boy. If anyone else wants to come, be ready in five minutes."

Without further ado, the former Auror stalked out of the room again, his footsteps heavy as he returned to the kitchen.

Kingsley only heaved a sigh and pulled up a chair, waiting for someone to take up Mad-Eye's offer.

Tonks' hair was jet black and hung to her shoulders as she made her way over to Remus and nudged his shoulder. The werewolf didn't budge so, with an impatient twist of her mouth, she shoved him clean out of his seat and onto the ground. A heartbeat's consideration later, she hauled Sirius out of his seat as well, dumping him on the ground without pity.

"Well?" She barked fiercely down at the two men, hands on her hips as her eyes flashed black as well. "What are you waiting for? The sooner Harry's out of Azkaban, the better. You've got a lot of making up to do, so hurry up and _go get him_! NOW!"

As her voice rose to a shout, the two Marauders seemed to snap out of whatever stupor they had been in and simultaneously lunged for the door. Still white-faced, Sirius had started up a mantra of 'HarryHarryHarry' as he stumbled towards the living room. Remus rushed out behind him, almost tripping over his feet in his haste.

"Wait, we're going too," Ron heaved himself out of his seat, picking up his wand and scrubbing a sleeve over his eyes. Beside him, Hermione was also crying, almost bordering on hyperventilating, but she staggered to her feet as well and made for the kitchen door.

"No, you should stay here," Albus said without thought, and then the entire room descended into chaos.

"Don't tell them what to do!" George bellowed as he scrambled for the door as well, Fred beside him, red-faced with fury. "Don't tell us what to do! We're going and you can take your orders and shove them up-"

The rest of the insult was lost in the cacophony that finally broke among the Order members. It took several bangs from Molly's wand before everyone quieted down again.

"Now," Molly's face was blotchy with tears and her voice was shaky with emotion but her gaze was steady as she looked around the room. "Alastor, Sirius, and Remus are more than enough to retrieve H-Harry. The rest of us will wait here, yes, wait here, Ronald." She spoke sharply as her youngest son made to interrupt. "Harry will need warm food and clean clothes a-and a soft bed when he gets here. And this place is still so cluttered even after all this time. We will stay here and get the house ready for Harry's a-arrival. Anyone who d-doesn't want to help can leave. I doubt Harry wants to be surrounded on all sides so soon after A-Azkaban. Understand?"

There was a long pause as everyone glanced at each other. And then a low mutter of assent answered her as they all moved, movements still sluggish with shock and dismay, to follow her orders. Those who had been closest to Harry, who had been his friends and had betrayed him so terribly, seemed prone to standing around and looking lost until Molly or someone else directed them to their assigned jobs.

Forgotten or ignored at the front of the room, Albus heaved a sigh and wondered how he could have gone so wrong. He heard the telltale roar of flames and held himself back from his desire to follow them. He didn't have the right anymore, and he doubted any of the three would hold back from attacking him if he tried to follow.

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**First chapter done! What do you think? Does it seem interesting enough to warrant more chapters?**


	2. A Precious Retrieval

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Wow, I did not expect so many reviews overnight! Thanks, and I'm glad so many people liked the first chapter!**

**Note 2: This fic will be GEN only, so Harry won't be paired with anyone anytime soon.**

**Note 3: For those of you wondering about my other stories, I'll have the next chapter of either To Fight and Protect or The Lives Worth Saving up sometime within a week, and then a chapter of whichever one I didn't update yet up within a week after that. I'm not quite sure when I can update Clash With the Vendice yet, but it'll hopefully be soon.**

**Note 4: Enjoy the next chapter!**

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**Chapter 2 – A Precious Retrieval**

_A human person is infinitely precious and must be unconditionally protected.  
__-Hans Kung_

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**-July 31****st****, 2002-**

Draco Malfoy was having the time of his life. Well, no he wasn't, but he was highly enjoying himself as he watched the occupants of Grimmauld Place buzz back and forth with boxes or cleaning tools in hand, bumping into each other as they polished up Headquarters with more fervor than house elves. Draco didn't think he had ever seen the Order so united in one cause.

"Aren't you having fun?" Blaise commented dryly as he dropped down beside the blond on the couch.

Draco scoffed, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "Look at them running back and forth, as if a clean house would make a difference to Potter."

"I suppose they need to feel like they're doing something worthwhile," Blaise stretched lazily before leaning back to look first at Draco and then at the fireplace. "And what are you still doing here? Waiting for someone?"

Draco shot a frown at his best friend. "This is Headquarters," He returned. "Where else am I supposed to go?"

"Back to Malfoy Manor?" Blaise suggested mildly, eyes keen as he focused on Draco. "With your father and godfather?"

Draco's face smoothed over again into his typical neutral mask. Blaise absently tapped a foot against a leg of the coffee table in front of him before remarking, "Seven years ago, when Potter was sent to Azkaban, you said, at one of the meetings, 'Give him a trial'. You were the only one. All of Potter's friends were just angry or in denial." He paused. "How did you know?"

Draco just sneered. "Perhaps I just wanted to see Potter humiliated in front of the entire world."

Blaise's raised eyebrow screamed skepticism. Draco frowned at him again before snorting, dropping his head into one hand as he leaned against the armrest. "Potter couldn't betray someone if his life depended on it, Blaise."

Blaise observed the blond with a measured gaze. It was ironic, really. Of all the people who had seen through the farce, it would be Potter's hated school rival.

"You could've pushed the issue," Blaise pointed out.

Draco sneered again. "Potter's not my friend." He straightened in his seat again one of the Weasley twins hurried by with a huge stack of yellowing papers. "The only reason I'm still here is to see _their_ faces when Potter returns." His expression darkened as he rose to his feet and headed out of the room, tossing back, "It'll be nothing less than they deserve."

Blaise said nothing more as he watched the youngest Malfoy disappear from the room. He would've believed that that was all there was if he didn't know that Draco had been trying to discover the truth of that day for years now. After all, Harry Potter was the reason the blond was still alive today.

**r.R.r**

"He doesn't have an Animagus form, Moony,"

Remus turned to take in the bleak expression on his best friend's face. His lips felt numb as he replied, "He'll be alright." _I hope_.

Sirius didn't seem to have heard as he stared listlessly ahead, waiting for the Aurors to process all the correct papers for release. It probably didn't help that Mad-Eye was glaring at them for their overall incompetence. Any other time, Remus would've thought that, to be fair, Mad-Eye was hardly helping matters with his steadily-darkening expression as the Aurors nervously fumbled through the papers.

"He's going to hate me," Sirius mumbled for the sixth time since they had left Grimmauld Place, and Remus had to take a fortifying breath to stop himself from punching him. The muttered comments coming from the ex-convict wasn't helping his nerves and he wished Sirius would shut up. It didn't take a genius to know Harry would hate them all for putting him there. If he even had enough of a mind left to do that much.

_Stop that_, he told himself firmly. _Harry's going to be just fine. Sirius was_.

_But Sirius Black could turn into a dog_, a sneering voice that sounded suspiciously like Severus taunted at the back of his mind. _Harry Potter can't. He was only fifteen when you locked him up_.

Remus honestly thought he was going to throw up.

"They're done," Mad-Eye suddenly barked, shoving roughly past the Aurors. "Let's go."

Inside the walls of Azkaban, Mad-Eye and Remus' Patronuses kept the Dementors at bay. Sirius had given up after the first few fumbling tries, eyes almost dead as he hurried forward with single-minded determination. No matter how ridiculous the thought, Remus thought that any Dementor who got in Sirius' way would be history, even without a patronus.

"Down here," Mad-Eye directed gruffly, leading them down a flight of stairs. And another, and another after that.

"Does his cell have a window?" Remus forced out the question. Mad-Eye's curt shake of his head was all the answer necessary.

After minutes that seemed to span a century, all three wizards finally came to a stop in front of a gloomy, dank cell. Even Mad-Eye grimaced as dozens of Dementors hovered nearby, and he tossed the key to Sirius before concentrating on his Patronus instead.

It took three tries before Sirius managed to fit the key into the lock. The cell door swung open with an eerie screech and, despite the Dementors, both Mad-Eye and Remus drew closer to the cell for a glimpse of its occupant.

Sirius quickly drew out his wand with a shaking hand and cast Lumos. The cell lit up and all eyes were immediately drawn to the empty cot.

"Harry?" Sirius' voice cracked as he stepped hesitantly into the cell. He froze as the light from his wand reached the farthest corner of the cell and his gaze fell on a huddled figure curled up on the ground.

Throat tight enough to make drawing breath difficult, Sirius stumbled forward and dropped to his knees in front of his godson, extending one tentative hand to grasp the twenty-two-year-old's shoulder. "Harry? C-Can you hear me?"

Gently, he rolled the boy (_man now; no longer a boy, he's never been just a boy_) over, ducking his head to peer at his godson's face. A choked sob caught in his throat as half-lidded lifeless eyes stared back at him out of a gaunt face. Merlin, he would never forgive himself for this.

"Sirius?" Remus' voice sounded distant even though a detached part of Sirius' mind knew that Remus was only a few feet away. "Sirius, is he..."

Remus trailed off and Mad-Eye took over, an irritated noise making its way into the open. "Black, bring him over here!" He snapped, his voice sharp with his own desire to see the wizard.

Slowly, clumsily, Sirius managed to manoeuvre his godson into his arms, wincing at how light and small Harry still was. He wouldn't be surprised if Harry was still relatively the same size as his fifteen-year-old self.

Remus had to close his eyes for a moment as Harry came into view. Even in the dim light, he could see the emaciated state Harry's body was in. His werewolf senses didn't help matters as he caught the sound of shallow, rasping breaths and the way the robes hung off Harry's fragile frame.

Beside him, Mad-Eye cursed under his breath, magical eye spinning in agitation. One uncharacteristically gentle hand reached out to sweep a lock of matted hair out of the wizard's face. Harry didn't so much as blink. With another litany of curses, Mad-Eye spun on his heel and concentrated on taking out his anger at the Dementors instead. His mountain lion snarled and leapt forward, herding the Dementors back even further.

"We're leaving," He muttered, stalking back to where they had come from. His gaze continuously flickered back to the near-comatose wizard cradled gently in Sirius' arms and thought back to the boy who had taken the time to sit with him in the infirmary after his year-long stint in that damned chest.

With another scathing swear word, Mad-Eye vowed that this would be the last time he would ever take Albus' word over his own instincts.

**r.R.r**

Outside, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Rain pelted down at them without mercy and Sirius hurriedly cast a repelling spell over his godson, ignoring his own worsening state. Remus leaned over and waved a warming spell over Harry as well, and Sirius cursed himself for his carelessness. He should have done that the moment he had picked Harry up.

Mad-Eye led them to the Apparition point, turning back to them with sharp instructions. "We'll Apparate directly into Headquarters. Albus lowered the anti-Apparition wards." He eyed Sirius pensively. "Can you apparate Potter without splinching him, Black?"

Sirius' head shot up and a very dog-like growl rumbled in his chest. "I won't hurt him."

Mad-Eye grunted noncommittally but said nothing more. A moment later, he had disappeared with a crack, and Remus motioned for Sirius to go first.

Clutching his precious load carefully, Sirius barely acknowledged Remus, his entire focus still on Harry as he turned on the spot and followed Mad-Eye with a loud crack.

With a heavy sigh at the thought of all the people waiting anxiously in Grimmauld Place, Remus half-turned on the spot, wondering what James and Lily would say if they were still alive.

It didn't take a very far stretch of the imagination to know that both would be absolutely livid.

**r.R.r**

Back in Grimmauld Place, Molly had made enough soup to feed three armies. Arthur had the Prophet propped up in front of him as he waited at the dining table but his eyes hadn't moved since he had first cracked the paper open.

Crammed into the sitting room, the rest of the Weasleys had taken up various positions around the rooms. Fred and George had taken up one side of a couch while Percy and Ginny sat on the other. Bill and Charlie had each claimed a piece of wall to lean against, arms crossed, features grim as they waited for Harry's arrival.

Ron was slumped on the floor, head resting on raised knees with Hermione shifting nervously beside him, wringing her hands anxiously. She had finally stopped crying but her eyes were still puffy and red-rimmed.

Neville and Luna were both perched on an armchair. Neville was still pale-faced and Luna had yet to stop twisting her hair around one hand, silvery grey eyes luminous in the dim light.

Draco and Blaise had taken the other couch, looking very bored in the tense atmosphere.

Upstairs, Poppy was bustling around a freshly-made bedroom, flitting back and forth between the bed and the table where Severus was setting up several potions that their soon-to-arrive patient would need. Every once in a while, Poppy would let out a choked little sob, and Severus would have to close his eyes and pray for patience. The news that Potter was innocent did not sit well with him. While there was no lost love between them, even he had to admit that his former student did not deserve Azkaban. Hell, he had, long ago, admitted, if only to himself, that Black didn't deserve Azkaban, much less a fifteen-year-old teenager, and Lily's son to boot.

His mouth curled into a bitter smile. This would be the second time he had failed Lily. Funny enough, he couldn't decide which mistake was worse.

There were three consecutive cracks downstairs that sent Poppy running from the room. Severus didn't bother. He had no desire to see Potter until absolutely necessary. Instead, he busied himself with rearranging the potions again, checking them a fourth time just to keep his hands occupied.

**r.R.r**

Mad-Eye appeared first, with Sirius a second behind him, and Remus a moment after that. But everyone had stopped paying attention to everything at the sight of the frail body cradled in Sirius' arms. A long silence filled the room as no one seemed to know what to do.

"Is he..." Hermione asked fearfully.

Sirius didn't look up, gaze focused on Harry as if he was all that made up the Marauder's world.

It was Remus who answered, voice rough, "He's not- not well. It'll take time. Is Poppy..." He trailed off as the aforementioned witch raced into the room, wand already out.

Instinctively, Sirius immediately drew back, arms tightening around his godson as the healer approached. Poppy paused, frowning a little, but her voice was gentle as she spoke. "Sirius, I need to take a look at him."

It was several seconds before Sirius seemed to understand Poppy's words and he stepped forward again, grip loosening minutely.

Several diagnostic spells and a Scourgify later, Poppy, face drawn with worry, gestured upstairs. "Alright, take him upstairs, Sirius. His bedroom's already been darkened. Keep him away from bright light. And don't," She glanced sharply at the ex-convict. "Get into an argument with Severus."

Sirius barely acknowledged her reprimand as he swept past her, attention back on Harry again.

"Right then," Poppy continued more briskly. "Molly, Harry probably won't be able to eat anything in the state he's in. Even in this dim light, he should be cringing, but he isn't responding at all. We'll have to start him on potions first, but keep liquid food on standby, just in case."

Molly nodded, frowning anxiously and looking about ready to burst into tears again.

Poppy turned a severe look on the rest of the room's occupants. "None of you are to enter Harry's bedroom unless permitted to by me, Severus, or Sirius. And Remus or Molly, I suppose." She added as an afterthought. "And keep the noise level _down_."

With that said, she bustled out of the room, heading back upstairs. No one made to follow her.

"Did you see him?" Fred finally broke the silence. "He was completely..."

_Lifeless_ came to several people's minds before Ginny burst into tears again, setting off Hermione as well.

With a grimace, Bill pushed off against the wall and muttered to his father, "I'm going to sort out Harry's monetary issues with the Ministry. They seized his trust vault but the goblins refused to hand over the Potter vaults. I'll see what I can do about the money the Ministry took."

Arthur nodded wordlessly and let his son go. He couldn't blame Bill for wanting to leave. He wanted to get out of there as well, just for a short breather after seeing Harry so empty.

"We put one of our sons in hell, Arthur,"

Arthur jerked at his wife's words and tried not to think too hard on it. He already knew this. He knew this all too well.

But all any of them could do now was try to nurse Harry back to his former self, nothing more.

**r.R.r**

_There were voices. Muffled, but different than the ones the Dementors usually stirred up._

_Shifting in the colourless haven he had made for himself within his mind, Harry debated shortly with himself whether to check beyond the safe walls he had erected._

_No, he decided, curling up again. What did it matter who was out there? In the end, the outside would only bring pain._

**r.R.r**

"Sirius?"

Sirius didn't turn around, only continuing to run his fingers through the tangled mess of Harry's hair as he clutched at a pale-white hand. A sigh sounded behind him before Remus drew up a chair and sat down across from him.

"Look, Moony," He murmured softly as his eyes traced his godson's wasted features. "Look what we've done to him. To our precious boy."

Remus shuddered, running a hand over his face before leaning forward to take Harry's other hand. He couldn't help but wince as he brushed the delicate, bird-like bones of Harry wrist. He could circle it with thumb and forefinger and still have space to spare.

"We'll get him back, Sirius," Remus said with effort, not sure if he was trying to convince Sirius or himself. "Harry's strong. He'll pull through."

Sirius looked up, anguish in every line of his face. "We failed him, Moony. Utterly failed him. Merlin, how can I even look him in the eye without dying of shame?"

Moony glanced away, chest tight. He didn't know how to answer that because it was the exact same thing he had been asking himself since laying eyes on Harry. Instead, he watched his best friend's son breathe, chest rising and falling under the sheet, something he would have missed if he wasn't looking for it.

"We'll get him back," He repeated, because the only alternative wasn't even thinkable at this point.

* * *

**Second chapter done! Review and tell me what you think!**


	3. Some Harsh Revelations

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thank you all for reading and/or reviewing! It's always nice to hear from readers.**

**Note 2: Enjoy chapter three!**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Some Harsh Revelations**

_The truth is rarely pure and never simple.  
__-Oscar Wilde_

* * *

**-July 31****st****, 2002-**

_The voice wouldn't stop._

_He shifted restlessly. The voices usually stopped after a while. They would fade away for a time before coming back again, but this voice, muffled but constant, wouldn't go away._

_It was insistent. Why couldn't it just leave him alone? Maybe he had missed more than a couple meals and someone had been sent down to check on him?_

_"-ry? Harry?"_

_Harry? No one ever called him by name anymore, unless it was his mother begging Voldemort to spare his life._

_"Harry? Harry?"_

_He frowned. His mother didn't repeat his name that many times. What was going on?_

_"Harry? Harry?"_

_He shifted again, suddenly uneasy. That voice; he knew it, didn't he? He thought hard, but the name and face trickled away from his grasp before he could get a firm hold on it._

_With a sigh, he shook off the feeling and let the voice fade into the background. It wasn't important. Nothing was anymore._

**r.R.r**

"Harry? Harry?"

"Sirius, if you don't shut up, so help me I will throw you out of this room!" Remus growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sirius glared hard at him, eyes burning almost feverishly as he clutched at Harry's hand even more tightly than before. "Just try it," He snapped back. "I'm bringing him back!"

Remus closed his eyes before opening them again with a tired sigh. "Sirius, he can't hear you. It's almost five in the afternoon, and you've been calling him for hours. Just stop, okay?"

"No," Was the adamant refusal, before Sirius started up again. "Harry? Harry?"

Remus gritted his teeth, trying not to let the pain in his chest unleash his temper. With every hour that passed, calling Harry's name only reinforced the fact that Harry wasn't waking up, and Remus wasn't sure if he wanted to get angry or cry.

"Remus," Sirius' voice had risen half an octave with excitement. "Remus, he moved!"

Great, now his best friend was delusional.

"Sirius," He started gently.

"No, no, look!"

With another heavy sigh, Remus leaned forward, eyes falling on the bone-white hand cradled between Sirius'. He stared half-heartedly at the appendage before making to pull back.

"Sirius, I don't think-" He froze when the brittle fingers twitched ever-so-slightly, an almost nonexistent movement that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking right at it.

"See?" Sirius' face had brightened with hope, though the expression was still mingled with desperation. "You saw, right Remus? He moved, just a little!"

"Yeah," Remus nodded weakly. "Yeah, Sirius."

"So I'm helping!" Sirius beamed, one hand reaching up to pet at Harry's hair again before leaning over his godson once more. "Harry? Harry?"

Remus watched with a mixture of cautious optimism and weary resignation. It was times like these that reminded him of Sirius' own stint in Azkaban and how, no matter how normal Sirius was most of the time, there were still occasions where Sirius acted... off. Not completely unhinged, of course, but not quite like the adult he was supposed to be either. Before Harry's imprisonment, the teenager had been someone Sirius could focus on, take care of, and whether Harry knew it or not, he had helped Sirius heal. After Harry had been framed, Sirius had closed off a part of himself, nowhere near as carefree as he had started to become again with Harry around. It was all Remus had been able to do to keep his best friend from spiralling down into depression. He didn't even want to think of the consequences if Sirius lost his godson a second time.

A soft knock at the door made him look up and he met Molly's anxious gaze as he raised his head. With a glance at Sirius, Remus rose and made his way to the door, closing it gently behind him before turning to face the Weasley matriarch.

"How is he?" Molly immediately asked.

Remus hesitated, wondering if it would be kinder to tell her that there was no change, but the despondency in her eyes made him relent.

"He moved," Remus offered, and his ears abruptly picked up the distant sound of muted cheers even as Molly released a relieved sigh, her shoulders sagging a little. He allowed his gaze to casually scan the hallway and caught sight of a pair of Extendable Ears hovering near the ceiling. With a quick shake of his head, he hurried on, "It wasn't anything big, Molly. Just a twitch of the fingers, and only for a moment."

"It's better than nothing," Molly said firmly. "Do you know why he moved?"

Remus glanced behind him at the closed door before replying, "I think Sirius managed to get through to him. He's been calling Harry's name all day. It might have finally broken through whatever barrier Harry's locked himself behind."

Molly nodded before asking uncertainly, "Do you think it would help if everyone took turns talking to Harry? Maybe if he heard our voices..."

Remus frowned thoughtfully, almost hearing the anticipation downstairs. "It might," He finally conceded. "But only one or two at a time. And," He glanced behind him again. "Just let Sirius do what he wants. Maybe wait until I can get him to sleep before letting someone else sit with Harry."

Molly nodded immediately. "Of course, I'll let the others know." Her gaze became more concerned. "Do you want something to eat now, Remus? Maybe I can bring you something. Sirius too."

Remus considered this for all of a moment before shaking his head and gesturing at the stairs. "I'll come down with you and bring Sirius something later. Need to stretch my legs a little."

They descended the stairs and Remus tried not to notice how very quiet Grimmauld Place had become. As he stepped into the kitchen after Molly, noting how no one asked after Harry and the discreet way George was tucking away his wand.

Looking around, he supposed it was lucky that the Order Headquarters was stationed in the Black House for it seemed as if the entire Order had decided to move in. The kitchen was crammed with people, and he had to snake around the many chairs that had been conjured on demand.

Yet everything was subdued, unnaturally so for a place like Grimmauld Place. Headquarters was usually bursting with activity, even when there was nothing going on."

"Soup, Remus?" Molly asked, already dishing out a bowl.

Remus nodded his thanks as he accepted the soup before conjuring his own chair beside Tonks.

The metamorphmagus gave him a tired smile. "Wotcher, Remus. Is my cousin coming down?"

Remus shook his head ruefully. "Sirius won't leave Harry until his body gives out on him." He scanned the room again. "Where's Kingsley? And Arthur?" He took a head count. "And Bill's not back yet?"

Tonks shrugged a little. "Last I heard, Bill's arguing with some Ministry officials about Harry's trust vault. Kingsley and Arthur went to help."

Remus nodded and concentrated on drinking his soup instead. He felt for them. The Ministry was difficult to handle on a good day. Then again, dealing with the Ministry was probably easier than facing Harry at the moment.

**r.R.r**

"Bloody fools!"

"Bill," Arthur cast a warning look in his eldest son's direction.

"What?" Bill grumbled with uncharacteristic frustration. "They can't hear me from here, dad. And they are fools. I have half a mind to involve the goblins in this. They're definitely a lot fonder of Harry than they are of the Ministry. If anyone can give these idiots hell, it's them."

Bill ignored the sigh his father released and settled for frowning at the Ministry officials conversing in whispered tones at the other end of the office for the tenth time that day. This was getting them nowhere. He had missed both breakfast and lunch, and now it looked like he would miss dinner as well. He didn't mind all that much; he was doing his part for Harry, but arguing on and off with the Ministry for close to nine hours now didn't do much for even his patience.

His frown lessened only slightly when Kingsley broke away from the group and approached them again, looking harried for once.

"They're taking it upstairs with the Minister," Kingsley informed them as soon as he was within hearing distance.

"It took them nine hours to decide that?" Arthur asked incredulously. "I thought they did that hours ago and Fudge was the one holding us up."

Kingsley shook his head. "They've been wasting time all day. You got the DMLE involved first but Amelia was busy so the lower ranks got the Magical Education Department involved, and then those guys insisted on contacting the Goblin Liaison Office, and they've been debating back and forth on whether or not to get the Wizengamot in on this as well."

"And now we have to go through Fudge," Bill finished wearily. "Someone explain to me why that man is still Minister of Magic."

"He won't be for long," Kingsley predicted with grim satisfaction as he motioned for them to follow. "When he put Harry away, he gained enormous support from the public. Now all of Britain knows Fudge placed an innocent fifteen-year-old teenager in Azkaban without a trial. The fact that he's the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't help matters. It's even worse than the Sirius Black debacle. Fudge managed to duck around most of that backlash since he wasn't technically responsible for Sirius' case."

"But not this time?" Arthur questioned.

Kingsley shook his head again. "The public's out for blood, Arthur. Fudge won't get out of this unscathed. The Prophet's having a field day with this."

Slightly raised voices ahead distracted them and made all three look around.

"Isn't that Amelia's voice?" Bill enquired, peering ahead at the throng of wizards all milling outside Fudge's office and pretending they weren't eavesdropping. As they drew closer, a wizard studying a sheaf of papers with unblinking interest sidled closer to Fudge's office. A moment later, the door was pushed open a crack and Amelia Bones' voice became much more distinct.

"-by law, it is illegal to withhold his possessions for any amount of time! The trust vault belongs to Mr. Potter! You will return it with every last knut accountable!"

Kingsley, Bill, and Arthur shared wide-eyed looks as Fudge's feeble voice sounded. "I-I understand that, Amelia. But surely you must understand that these things take time-"

"Time?" Amelia's voice blared. "How much time does it take to hand Mr. Potter back his vault key? His trust vault never should have been opened in the first place, as you very well know! Ten years is the minimum amount of time before a wizard's vault can be freely distributed amongst the Ministry of Magic!"

"I- well, that is-" Fudge spluttered.

Bill glanced at Kingsley, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I thought you said Amelia was busy?"

Kingsley shrugged, smiling as well. "I guess she decided to switch her schedule around. If Amelia is anything, it's fair. She was one of the ones who wanted to put Harry through a trial, but Fudge and most of the Wizengamot overruled her. Now that everyone knows Harry is innocent after all, Amelia will do everything she can to make sure he is compensated."

Inside the office, Amelia continued, voice now cold with steel-like fury. "Return everything you took, Cornelius, or I will see you brought to justice in front of the entire Wizengamot."

A second later, Amelia stalked out of the office, expression stormy as she shot a glare at all the wizards now scrambling back to their desks. Her gaze softened somewhat when she caught sight of them, and she quickly made her way over, a grimace stealing over features.

"Kingsley, Arthur, Bill," She acknowledged, hesitating briefly before venturing, "How is Mr. Potter?"

Amelia seemed to understand the stilted silence that fell between the three men and nodded resignedly in comprehension.

Bill cleared his throat in an attempt to chase away the uncomfortable air settling around them, well aware that many eyes were all currently glued on them. "About Harry's vault then..."

Amelia's expression became determined. "Don't worry about that. Cornelius will give back every last knut before he's chased out of Office; I'll see to it personally."

Bill nodded before prompting, "And his wand?"

The witch blinked and then grimaced again. "Unfortunately, his wand was snapped upon his incarceration. I'm afraid Mr. Potter will have to get a new wand. Of course," She added almost vindictively. "Cornelius will pay for that too."

They shared grim smiles, ignoring the whispered gossip around them.

"Then we'll leave you to it, Amelia," Arthur nodded. "We should head back."

Amelia nodded in agreement. "Of course; I'll see you at work tomorrow, Arthur, Kingsley. Until next time, Bill."

As they departed, all three men's thoughts turned back to the wizard currently hospitalized in Grimmauld Place.

As Kingsley activated the Floo Network first, Bill turned to his father. "Do you think Harry will be alright?"

Arthur glanced at his eldest son, studying the worried lines creasing his brow. Somehow, 'I'm sure he'll be fine' just didn't cut it.

"Harry's strong," He said instead. "If anyone can pull through, it's him."

They watched Kingsley disappear in a sea of green flames before Bill spoke again. "He was interested in curse-breaking, did you know? Asked me about it when mum and I went to watch him during the Triwizard Tournament. 'Ron told me you're a curse-breaker', he said, 'I didn't get a chance to ask over the summer; what's it like?' Asked me if I would lend him some books about it. I promised I would, next time I saw him."

Arthur's mouth was suddenly very dry. "No," He managed as Bill stepped forward and tossed in a handful of floo powder. "No, I didn't know that."

Bill only nodded once and said nothing more before stepping through. Arthur watched him go before taking in a shuddering breath. He supposed it made more sense now when he thought back to the almost gloomy countenance Bill would take on whenever Molly asked about his job. Curse-breakers weren't allowed to advance to a Mastery until they took on at least one apprentice, and his son had been pushing that issue away for years. None of his other children had much interest in Bill's job, so it would stand to reason that his eldest would've been delighted to find someone he considered a younger brother anyway to take under his wing.

As he let the Floo Network whisk him away, Arthur let himself wonder whether any of them would be the same if Harry didn't pull through.

**r.R.r**

A whoosh of flames made Remus look up from his third bowl of soup and he blinked when Severus stepped into the kitchen, glancing around with mild disdain on his face before turning his attention on him.

"Lupin," The Potions Master gestured at the vials in his arms. "I need to check on Potter."

"Er," Remus blinked. Since when did Severus need his permission?

Severus sneered. "Black nearly stunned me this morning when I tried to administer some of these. While I have no compunctions in removing him forcibly, I highly doubt you'd think the same."

"Oh, right, of course," Remus abandoned his soup and made for the stairs again. Sirius was unreasonably protective of Harry, and that went doubly so when it came to Severus.

"Sirius? Severus is here to check on Harry,"

Sirius blinked up at him without comprehension for a moment before his gaze slid to Severus standing behind him. He shrugged after a few seconds of silence, turning back to Harry again without a word.

Severus heaved a sigh and tried to hold his tongue. He entered the room and set the potions out on the bedside table, sparing a glance for the ex-convict before pulling out a needle and filling it with the correct nutrient potion. Administering it was a chore and a half since Severus had to keep an eye on the mutt in case he tried to knock the needle away again.

It only took several minutes to inject all the correct potions and do another diagnostic scan.

"Black," Severus prodded irritably. "Physically, Potter is still dangerously unhealthy but regular potion administrations will improve that. I suggest giving him a bath sometime as well; even a Scourgify doesn't do much for him anymore."

That said, Severus grabbed the empty vials, nodded curtly at Lupin, and headed for the door.

"What about mentally?"

Severus stopped in the doorway, jaw tightening. He had been hoping to escape the house before this question was raised. It was just his luck that Black had to ask him.

"...Brain functions are decreased, of course," Severus shot back in as indifferent a tone as he could muster. "He's near-comatose at the moment." He paused, before adding, without his usual bite, "But if he doesn't wake up soon, Black, even the potions won't keep him alive for much longer."

For a moment, Severus thought the ex-convict would attack him, but the sudden tension in the line of the man's shoulders disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Severus turned away and retreated from the room.

"Thank you, Severus,"

Severus just sneered at the werewolf's gratitude before stalking back downstairs. He didn't want anyone's thanks, least of all Lupin's.

He supposed he should be thankful that Potter's eyes had finally closed though; he didn't think he could've taken another session with Lily's deadened eyes staring back at him.

**r.R.r**

"Snape said we could give Harry a bath,"

Remus almost started at Sirius' voice. The animagus had been very quiet for almost three hours since Severus' visit.

"Yes," Remus glanced hesitantly between the other two occupants of the room. "I suppose we could-"

"I'll do it," Sirius rose to his feet, and then added, almost defensively, "He's my godson."

Remus could only sigh and nod. "Alright, Sirius. I'll go see if Molly has another change of clothes for him."

He stayed long enough to watch Sirius pull back the sheets and scoop Harry up before heading for the door, a lump forming in his throat. Harry was so damn small.

**r.R.r**

"Alright, Harry, I'm just going to help you take a bath. I know, very embarrassing, being twenty-two already, but I won't mention it if you don't." Sirius babbled as he seated his godson on the closed toilet and started filling the bath.

No answer, not that Sirius was expecting one. Harry's eyes were still closed.

"You'll be more comfortable after a bath," He rambled on, tugging at the button-up shirt Harry was wearing. "And once you wake up, Molly will feed you the best food possible, and-"

Sirius broke off as he managed to slide the shirt off Harry's shoulders. His entire being froze as his eyes caught sight of a darkened line starting just at his shoulder and extending behind him out of sight. Mind rebelling at the dawning realization, Sirius forced himself to move, gently removing the shirt before shifting Harry around.

The sight that met him almost made him throw up right then and there. He didn't even realize he was crying until Remus barged into the bathroom, expression tight with fear, only to skid to a stop, clean clothes dropping to the floor with barely a whisper, already forgotten as Remus caught sight of Harry's back.

Scars, old and long and horrifyingly clear against near-white skin stared back at them, mercilessly accusatory.

"He wanted to live with me," Sirius sobbed, clutching at Harry as if that simple act would make this living nightmare go away. "Ten minutes after he found out I wasn't a murderer and he already wanted to move in with me. Nobody does that, Remus, nobody, and I should've known something was wrong, but I didn't and I'm a bloody fool and I deserve to be sent to Azkaban for this and Merlin what've I done-"

"Sirius, shut up! Just-" Remus' voice cracked as he dragged his eyes away from Harry's back. "Just stop talking. This isn't helping anyone."

Sirius wasn't listening. "I'm the worst godfather in the history of godfathers! He wrote to me, Moony, he did! He said he hated living with those muggles and that he couldn't wait to get back to school and I should've picked up on what he was trying to say because it was the exact same thing I always wrote to James about my parents but even my parents weren't as ba-"

Sirius seemed to run out of breath, which was a good thing for everyone involved because Remus was a heartbeat away from stunning his best friend. As it was, he swallowed hard and tried not to notice how much his hands shook as he reached for Harry.

"Sirius, we need to give Harry a bath, remember?" Remus tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Come on, Sirius, we have the rest of our lives to blame ourselves. Now isn't the time. Harry could catch a cold or something, you know."

This mention of danger to Harry's health seemed to knock some sense back into Sirius, and Remus was relieved to see the man pull himself together somewhat.

With careful manoeuvring, they managed to strip the rest of Harry's clothes off and get him into the tub. While Remus seemed to be able to keep his mind on the task at hand, Sirius was blatantly incapable of keeping guilt-ridden eyes from straying back to his godson's scarred back.

Half an hour later, they had managed to dry Harry off, change him into clean clothes, and tuck him back into fresh sheets, with Sirius gently soaking up the remaining water from long raven hair.

"Do you think Albus knew?" Sirius asked out of the blue, calmer now that they had time to let the revelation sink in. "About how Harry was treated?" Sirius' voice was carefully void of emotion. "I mean, he was the one who left Harry with the Dursleys. Because of the blood wards. Surely he must have checked on him."

Remus fought down the spike of rage that welled up inside him at Sirius' words and tried to calm Sirius down instead. A calm, quiet Sirius was even more dangerous than a loud one. "Sirius-"

"Remus," Sirius' gaze was like the calm before a storm.

"No, Sirius, listen to me," Remus said firmly. "If Albus knew, _if_, then we'll deal with it when the time comes, but you are not going to run after him to curse him or something just because you suspect him. We have to think about Harry first, and Harry doesn't need vengeance right now. Not from us."

Sirius was silent for a long moment after, and Remus could almost hear the internal war raging inside his best friend. He released a soundless sigh of relief when Sirius relented with a jerky nod, scooting closer to Harry to take his hand again.

Neither of them noticed the brief flutter of eyelashes against pale cheeks as they took up vigil once more.

**r.R.r**

_Someone was crying. Heartfelt and sorrowful and Harry couldn't quite block it out._

_He frowned. There was so much noise lately. He knew it had been a while since he had last eaten. Maybe that was what all the fuss was about. Would they leave him alone if he went out to check?_

_But why would there be crying? Surely a few missed meals was nothing to cry about._

_He concentrated and his mind sharpened a little more, distant memories floating just beyond his reach now. And he could feel, just a little._

_It was...warm. Azkaban wasn't warm. It was always cold and dark; that was why he had retreated to his safe place._

_Something was different. Should he check? Just for a moment. Surely that wouldn't hurt. Just to see who was crying._

_Yes, he decided as he started pulling himself back to the surface. He'd take a quick peek._

_The world wouldn't be all that different. By the time he managed to surface again, whoever was crying would most likely have gone away anyway._

* * *

**Third chapter done! It's a bit longer than usual, so tell me what you think!**


	4. Conversations and Uncertainties

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! Glad you're all enjoying it even though it's pretty depressing.**

**Note 2: To those who are wondering, Hedwig and Dobby will be mentioned soon.**

**Note 3: Just to clear things up, since Harry's been in Azkaban for years, he's not going to wake up, jump out of bed, and start cursing everyone in sight, so there won't be vengeance being dished out immediately.**

**Note 4: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Conversations and Uncertainties**

_It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.  
__-Frederick Douglass_

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**-July 31****st****, 2002-**

"Remus? Sirius?"

Both men glanced up blearily as Ron stepped into the room, looking almost as awkward as he did in his teenage years. Behind him, Hermione peered in, eyes immediately darting to the prone figure on the bed.

"Mum told us to ask you if maybe we could switch," Ron glanced between the two men before focusing on Remus. His harsh words earlier that day still rang clear between himself and Sirius. "Just for a while."

Remus nodded briefly before reaching over to prod at Sirius. "Come on Sirius, let's go get something to eat. I'm sure Molly has something other than soup downstairs."

For a moment, it seemed as if Sirius would refuse, expression taking on a familiar stubborn look, but he paused to peer up at both Ron and Hermione, and whatever he saw there must have convinced him to relinquish his hold on his godson, if only for a few minutes, because he nodded once, reaching out to brush back a few stray strands of ebony hair before rising to his feet and following Remus from the room.

Alone with Harry, both Ron and Hermione remained by the door for a long minute before shuffling into the bedroom, each taking a seat beside the bed.

Hermione seemed unable to find any words so Ron took it upon himself to start. They were supposed to be talking to Harry after all.

"So," He cleared his throat a little when the word came out a bit hoarse. "I suppose the first thing I want to say is I'm sorry. Not- Not that it helps much. Or at all, really. 'Cause, well, an apology's not really gonna give you back any of the years we took from you."

He fell silent for a moment when Hermione made a choking sound at the back of her throat.

"But I am," He continued after a second. "Sorry, I mean. Really sorry. For being an idiot and not seeing how stupid the whole thing was and just going along with everything Dumbledore said. You- You're my best mate. I'm supposed to stand by you no matter what, and I didn't do that. I betrayed you and I deserve every hateful thing you have to say to me, but, you know, you'd have to be awake to hate me so maybe..."

Ron trailed off miserably and let the silence reign. Merlin, he had never been good with words.

"I'm sorry too, Harry," Hermione suddenly blurted out across from him. "Very, very sorry, and, well, like Ron said, that's not nearly enough to make up for everything, but we're here to try- to make you better again." She reached out shakily and patted Harry's left hand. "And when you wake up, you can rage at us all you want, and Ron and I and everyone else will have thoroughly deserved it."

"Not Fred and George so much," Ron inserted quickly, and he was relieved to find it easier to talk now that he could just ramble. "They've been on your side since the beginning. Wouldn't believe Dumbledore at all. They were so angry at us, and trust me, when the _twins_ are angry, it's best to just run and hide." He and Hermione exchanged rueful smiles as they both thought back to the fateful meeting.

"They were adamant about you being innocent," Ron explained. "Kept insisting that there was no way you would go about killing innocent muggles, and they even showed us the money – you know, your Triwizard winnings – that you had given them after fourth year. When we still wouldn't believe them, well, you know they were both legal adults by then, so they packed their bags overnight and were gone by morning. Mum was in a right state; shouting at them for putting themselves in danger and all. But they wouldn't listen. Rented a flat in Diagon Alley and ignored most of the owls mum and dad sent them."

He paused, and then snorted, running a hand over his face. "I suppose we were lucky they were still even speaking to us. We had no idea what they were up to until almost a year later."

"It was right after our fifth year, Harry," Hermione took over when Ron glanced questioningly over at her. She supposed it would do Harry more good if he managed to hear both their voices, if only so he would have more incentive to wake up and hex them into oblivion. "I mean, most of our fifth year was pretty bad. The Ministry wouldn't believe Dumbledore when he told them You-Know-Who was back. Said they couldn't- couldn't trust the word of a m-murderer. Anyway, they sent a ministry official to Hogwarts as the DADA professor. She's a horrible woman-"

"Toad," Ron cut in.

Hermione managed a half-smile. "Yes, toad. Her name's Delores Umbridge, and she's a horrible toad. Sat in on classes and tried to get everyone in trouble. She got Trelawney and Hagrid fired and managed to get McGonagall sent to St. Mungos with four stunners to the chest! McGonagall was alright by the end of the year, but we were all very worried.

"Fred and George were fed up with Umbridge by April. She kicked them off the Quidditch team, you see, when they both attacked Montague-"

"Flint made him the new Slytherin Quidditch Captain," Ron added with disgust, earning an exasperated look from Hermione.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "We weren't there, Ron and I, but rumour had it that he said something nasty about Harry and the twins just snapped. So they got banned-"

"But they put Montague in the Hospital Wing for two weeks," Ron threw in with relish.

"Ronald, let me speak!" Hermione finally snapped, scowling at the redhead. Ron ducked his head.

"Anyway, Harry," Hermione forged on. "You know the twins; they've never cared much about their school marks, and without Quidditch, they didn't really have much to stay for anymore. Apparently, they were getting their joke shop business set up all year. They were done by April and, well you really had to be there, but they left a portable swamp behind them to infuriate Umbridge, summoned their broomsticks-"

"Which Umbitch confiscated after they were banned," Ron interrupted, raising his hands defensively when Hermione threw him a glare.

"And then they just flew out of there," Hermione finished. "Before they left though, they had already sold a lot of their merchandise to the students. Drove Umbridge absolutely mad. She couldn't punish everyone and the other professors weren't doing anything to help, not that I blame them."

"But what we really didn't know was what they were up to besides their joke shop," Ron started again, and this time Hermione relented with a roll of her eyes. "Fred and George have always been smart; wouldn't have been able to invent half the things they did if they weren't. They planned it all out ever since they moved out of Grimmauld Place." Ron shifted closer.

"They tried to break you out of Azkaban, Harry."

On hindsight, Ron supposed it was quite stupid to think that Harry would suddenly wake up at that revelation, but he was still disappointed when his best friend didn't so much as stir.

With a sigh, he continued on, "Didn't work, obviously, but they actually got pretty far. Managed to slip Fainting Fancies – that's a sweet that would make the person who ate it faint within a few seconds – into the Aurors' food. They still won't say how they managed that, but that's how they got past all the Aurors standing guard in front of Azkaban. I don't know how we missed what they were planning because they kept asking dad about Azkaban; you know, how many levels there are, how large each floor was. They didn't go about it in a very obvious way, of course; they'd just slip it in and no one really wanted to talk about the place so they'd get their answers real quick. They even managed to teach themselves how to produce their own Patronuses, which was actually why it took them until early July to put their plan in action. Both their Patronuses are foxes, by the way, but they're different types. Kinda cute, to be honest, but only you'd be able to get away with saying that to their faces.

"Anyway," Ron hurried on at Hermione's raised eyebrows. "They got past the Aurors, stole their keys, and I think they were doing okay with the Dementors, but there was one thing they didn't know that really put a wrench in their whole plan. They didn't know which, er, cell you were in, or even which floor. I'm pretty sure they tried to get it out of Mad-Eye a couple times, but either he was too paranoid or he suspected that they were up to something because he didn't say. I guess they were prepared to search every floor because they went ahead with it anyway. The time loss there was what got them caught. They started with the upper floors because they heard that Sirius was placed in a cell with a window and he supposedly killed innocent muggles as well, so they must have figured that that was as good a place to start as any. But a break-in into Azkaban doesn't just go unnoticed. They must have tripped an alarm or something because next thing we know, dad was running around Headquarters shouting about the twins breaking into Azkaban, mum was crying, half the Order was running in and out of the house, and it was just pandemonium all around. We didn't really know what happened until Dumbledore finally dragged them back to Headquarters, sat them down, and practically threatened them with Veritaserum before we got the whole story."

"It was absolute insanity, Harry," Hermione took over again as Ron shook his head. "I thought Molly was going to lose it, and Arthur was so red in the face it was scary. Dumbledore was really angry with them as well but I don't think either of them was sorry at all. They just sat there and took all the yelling without batting an eye, but you could tell, just by looking at them, that they really believed they were doing the right thing.

"And then Dumbledore and Arthur, and I think Kingsley and Mad-Eye went with them, back to the Ministry. I heard that they had to do a lot of fast talking to get the twins out of trouble. I'm not sure what they said, but it ended with the twins getting a heavy fine and a warning, and Arthur was put on probation at work."

Hermione paused, glancing hesitantly at Ron who nodded and picked up the explanation again. "I'm pretty sure Fred and George would've tried again, mate, if they had just gotten the fine and warning, but dad being put on probation made them stop, I guess. The Ministry still didn't believe that You-Know-Who was back, so the Order was the only thing keeping You-Know-Who at bay, and they knew dad was needed as a way in to the Ministry, and if he lost his job, it would be pretty bad for the Order. So they didn't try again, but they refused to move back here, and they won't really talk to us anymore unless it's something to do with work."

Ron scuffed a shoe against the floor. "And that's it. So don't be too mad at Fred and George; if I could go back in time, I'd join them in their break-in."

"Me too, Harry," Hermione agreed earnestly. "If I could, I'd never let any of this happen to you."

They both fell silent now, and Hermione reached forward to clasp a pale hand between her own. Her gaze fell on the band of metal on her left ring finger and she turned to look at Harry with a watery smile.

"Look, Harry," She flashed the silver band, set with a single marquise-shaped diamond. Across from her, Ron flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. "Ron and I are engaged now. Ron finally got around to proposing a few months ago. Really, at the rate he was going, I thought I was going to have to propose instead!"

"Hermione!" Ron protested indignantly. "I was just waiting for the right moment!"

Hermione just grinned a little before leaning closer to Harry. "Don't listen to him, Harry. You and I both know Ron's always been a bit slow on the uptake when it comes to this sort of thing."

Ron rolled his eyes but found himself smiling at the familiar banter. "Listen, Harry," He leaned forward as well. "Hermione and I haven't set an actual date for the wedding yet, what with You-Know-Who still running around and all. But now that you're back, we'll wait until you're better to hold the wedding, okay? I mean, you probably-" His smile faltered a bit. "You probably wouldn't want to come, but the offer's still there, of course. And obviously, you're my best man. That spot will always be for you, even if you don't come."

A gentle knock made them both look up, and they blinked at the Weasley matriarch standing in the doorway. The brightness of her eyes told them that she had probably heard at least a little of what they had been saying.

"Finish up here," Molly told them softly. "Fred and George want a turn, and then I think we should all turn in for the night. You'll have more time with Harry tomorrow."

"Just a minute, mum," Ron hastily pulled out a slightly crumpled card. "We're just going to wish Harry Happy Birthday."

For a moment, it looked as if Molly would start crying again, but she only nodded and retreated from the room without another word.

"Right then," Ron turned back to Harry, smoothing out the card as best he could before setting it on the bedside table. "It's a pretty rotten birthday, all things considered-"

"Ron!"

"But," Ron continued doggedly. "Happy Birthday, mate-"

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione chimed in, voice suddenly thick with tears.

"And we got you a card, hand-drawn, mind you, 'cause You-Know-Who attacked Hogsmeade again, the bastard-"

"Ronald, get on with it!"

"Alright, woman, keep your hair on! What I-"

"We!"

Ron heaved a sigh. "What _we_ are trying to say, Harry, is that we know a card's not much, and we couldn't go shopping for a gift, but as soon as you're better, if you ever forgive us, we'll throw you the biggest birthday party in the history of parties, even if we have to fight You-Know-Who himself to raid Honeydukes or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes but reached forward to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "What Ron is trying to say in a very roundabout way is please wake up soon, Harry. I promise we'll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you, but you- you have to wake up. Even if you hate us forever, we'd very much prefer you to be awake than not." She blinked rapidly when her eyes prickled with tears. "Please, Harry."

Ron frowned a little to ward off his own desire to cry. Harry hadn't moved at all, but he supposed he couldn't expect a miracle overnight.

Sighing resignedly, he patted Harry's arm before motioning for Hermione to get up. "Time to go, or Fred and George'll just barge in here and toss us out."

Hermione nodded and got to her feet reluctantly, squeezing Harry's hand one last time before following Ron out of the room.

Out in the hallway, they paused at the sight of the Weasley twins leaning against the opposite wall. There was an awkward silence as Ron's ears slowly turned red. He was taller than the twins, but he might as well be two inches high for all the good it did him.

"Well, Ronniekins," Ron glanced up as one of them started, tone neutral.

"If you're done,-"

"-we'd like a turn."

They both stared pointedly at him and Ron managed a nod. "Right. Come on, Hermione."

The twins watched their brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law disappear down the stairs.

"Bit harsh, you think?" Fred started lightly.

George snorted before pushing off against the wall and making his way into Harry's darkened bedroom. "If Harry gets out of this with no brain damage, we'll talk about it."

They settled around Harry's bed, taking their time to study the unhealthily pale face set against the black of the wizard's hair.

"He's so thin," George muttered, eyeing the protruding cheekbones on Harry's face. They seemed even more accentuated in the dim moonlight.

"He was already a scrawny git before," Fred sighed before reaching up to tousle the Potter hair. "He looks weird with long hair. It doesn't stick up as much like this."

George grunted noncommittally before forcing a cheery note into his voice. "Well Harrykins, we were going to tell you all about how we kicked Dementor arse but our prat of a brother already went and spilled everything."

"So we'll tell you about our joke shop instead," Fred continued. "We put your money to good use, just like you wanted us to."

"Got our joke shop started-"

"-and there was even enough to rent us a flat before we could move in above our shop."

"And we bought Ron new robes like you asked us to-"

"-though there really was no need-"

"-since a little embarrassment would've been-"

"-more than he deserved, really."

"But we bought them for him and sent them by owl-"

"-told him it was from us-"

"-but we didn't tell him why-"

"-very funny it was, hearing from Bill how Ron refused to put them on until mum and dad performed every revealing spell possible on it."

Fred fell silent and started picking at a loose thread of the bed sheets to keep his hands occupied. George glanced up at Harry's face before dropping his gaze again when he saw that there was no change.

"So we've invented quite a few things," George picked up again. "Skiving Snackboxes to begin with."

"Those include Fainting Fancies-"

"-and Puking Pastilles-"

"-and Nosebleed Nougats-"

"-and Fever Fudges-"

"-and Toothache Toffees-"

"-and Farting Fizzers. That one's a kicker. Sold out on the first day. Doesn't cause a stink either."

They exchanged a weak grin at the remembered success before Fred continued, "Then we've got Ton-Tongue Toffees; you remember Harry? We tried it out on your dear cousin when we came to pick you up for the Quidditch World Cup."

"Then there are Canary Creams and Edible Dark Marks and Bunny Bonbons-"

"-and Love Potions and Pygmy Puffs and Ten-Second Pimple Vanishers-"

"-those are part of our WonderWitch products. We also have a line of Defence Against the Dark Arts products-"

"-went into that bit for you, Harry-"

"-knew you'd like it; Defence always was your favorite subject-"

"-and we remembered the spells you showed us over Christmas in our sixth year; your fourth year, I mean-"

"-you'd have been a good teacher-"

"-great teacher, could've shown everyone a thing or ten-"

Fred looked up when George remained silent and was a little startled to see the hollow expression on his twin's face. "George-"

"What if he doesn't wake up, Fred?" George asked, brown eyes suddenly terrified. "Or what if he does, but his mind's, I don't know, _gone_?"

Fred swallowed hard. This had been a thought he had been trying to avoid since Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place. But while they were twins, George always had been the moodier of the two of them, so it came as no surprise that he would be the one to bring this up.

"We'll just have to help him," Fred forced out in a strangled voice. "We read up on it, remember? Depression, memory loss, insanity-"

"Don't say that!" George whispered fiercely. "Harry's not going to be insane!"

They both knew the most likely consequences for insanity; Harry would be locked up in St. Mungos in a heartbeat, little better than Azkaban in terms of freedom.

"I swear, Fred," George growled, expression darkening. "If they try it, if Dumbledore tries to put Harry in St. Mungos-"

"-we'll take him and run," Fred finished, nodding without hesitation. "No arguments here, George."

They fell silent again, both thinking back to a summer long ago when they had had to break Harry out of his supposed home. Bars and cat-flaps and padlocks were not normal, not by a long shot, but Harry hadn't said anything about it, as if it _was_ normal, and Ron, perhaps, had been too young to think much of it, especially if his best friend hadn't been vocal about it at all, but they had been fourteen already and they had certainly thought the entire situation quite strange. They had brought it up with their mother a few times, pointing out how thin Harry always was, how quiet and small and so unlike Ron, but their worries had been explained away with 'late bloomers' and 'different personalities' and in the end, they had dropped it.

After overhearing Remus and Sirius in the bathroom through the Extendable Ears they had set up before Harry had arrived, for their personal use only of course, they dearly wished they hadn't.

"We should take him and run anyway," George suggested with a humourless laugh to his tone of voice. "Ten galleons says Dumbledore will be here as soon as Harry's awake enough to understand anything, spouting about the greater good and You-Know-Who and all that rot."

"I'm not taking that bet," Fred snorted. "But he'll have to go through quite a few people before he manages to get to Harry. I'm pretty sure Sirius will be first in line."

George scoffed, but his face softened ever-so-slightly with pity. "I swear, any day now, Sirius is going to go off the deep end. Harry's probably the only thing keeping him from breaking."

"Poor bloke," Fred agreed. "Azkaban's done him no favours, though I'd feel sorrier for him if he had stood by Harry from the beginning."

George couldn't dispute this so he only nodded and turned to look at Harry again.

And then sat up abruptly. "_Fred!_"

Fred's head snapped up, feeling first disbelief and excitement flood through him as he caught sight of dull emerald. "Harry?" He breathed, jumping to his feet. "Harry, can you hear us?"

For a long restless moment in which neither twin so much as blinked, green eyes only stared sightlessly ahead with no sign of recognition. Just as they were about to sit back, disappointment dragging them down again, Harry blinked and his eyes focused, just for a second, on each of them. Neither of them was sure if Harry actually knew who they were, but this was a major improvement from before and they couldn't quite help the grins that broke out on their faces.

"Harry, can you hear me?" Fred ventured tentatively, reaching out to brush back a stray lock of hair but hastily retreating again when Harry visibly cringed, albeit weakly.

Harry's mouth opened, only to cough feebly, and George leapt up as well, looking around wildly. "He needs water, wait," He whipped out his wand and was about to cast Aguamenti when Fred yanked his arm back down.

"Glass?" He reminded with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, right," George paused for a heartbeat before pocketing his wand. "I'll just go downstairs for one. Boiled water would be better."

George sprinted out of the room and Fred winced as he heard a shout followed by a series of thumps and then more shouting. When he turned back to Harry again, he quickly threw up a silencing charm around them, watching with relief as the fear receded somewhat from his surrogate brother's expression.

"It's alright, Harry," Fred murmured quietly, sitting back down with care. Fast movements probably startled Harry more than helped. "George, you remember George? He's just gone to get you some water. I'm Fred, by the way, not George. Then again, you've always been able to tell us apart." He paused when Harry started struggling against the sheets. "Do you want to sit up? Here, let me-"

Fred froze when Harry flinched away from him, eyes glued on his hands with a startling amount of focus for someone who was missing his glasses. Slowly, Fred lowered his hands to the bed and continued softly, "Harry, I'm just going to help you sit up, honest. Okay?"

Another still silence followed and Fred was very aware of the many eyes suddenly drilling into his back. He had a feeling that George was holding the majority of Grimmauld Place's occupants back.

And then, slowly, Harry nodded, and Fred had to wrestle down the urge to grin madly. This was good; Harry understood him. Instead, he reached for Harry again, making sure to slow his movements so Harry could follow them. Gently, he slid an arm under the smaller wizard, pulling back the sheets with his other hand and trying not to wince at how light Harry was. He manoeuvred Harry into a sitting position, shifting the pillow to make him more comfortable.

"There, is that okay?" Fred asked anxiously, trying not hover.

Again, there was a long moment of silence, as if Harry needed several seconds to understand what Fred was saying, before the delayed response of a nod came.

Fred offered a genuine smile and eased back into his seat. "Good; now, my brother, George, is at the door with some water. Is it alright if I let him back in?"

Harry frowned a little, eyes never moving from Fred. The confusion was plain on his face so Fred patiently asked again, even slower this time, and was rewarded with only a few seconds of silence before getting an acquiescing nod.

Grinning brightly, he turned, raising an eyebrow at all the heads jammed between the doorframe and the half-open door. He motioned for George to enter, and his twin detached himself from the tangle of people, cradling a cup of water in his hands.

"Slow movements," Fred murmured once George had bypassed his silencing charm. "And be quiet when you talk."

George nodded once to show he had heard before moving around the bed to sit in the other chair.

"Hello Harry," George started with an easy smile as Harry studied him warily. "I brought you water."

He extended the glass and waited until Harry raised a shaky hand. With a slight frown, he made sure not to let go, inwardly glad when Harry didn't try to shake him off as he helped bring the water to the younger wizard's lips.

Harry only managed a few meagre sips before he sagged back again, and George placed the glass on the bedside table. Glancing at Fred first, he directed his next question at Harry again, not quite sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Harry, do you know who we are?"

**r.R.r**

When he finally surfaced, it took him a moment to realize he was in a bed. A soft, warm bed, not at all like his cot.

Where was he?

He drifted in and out for a while, picking up words and broken sentences. He thought he recognized the voices, but knew, instinctively, not to think too hard on it. He remembered associating pain with those voices.

Now that he had surfaced though, he tried to understand some of the things those voices were saying. He heard 'Azkaban' quite a few times. That was a word he knew. He thought he caught 'sorry' and 'Ministry' and 'Hogwarts' as well, but he wasn't quite sure how that all fitted together. And then he had the most curious feeling of being submerged into a story of twins and attempted break-ins and Patronuses (_Prongs_, a corner of his mind whispered.) and he thought he would like to thank these twins one day, because it was a good story and he would've been very grateful if they really had tried to break him out.

Then he went under again for a while, and when he surfaced, the voices had changed. He caught 'joke shop' and 'Snackboxes' and a bunch of other words that he couldn't remember after hearing them but they brought an unbidden smile to his lips nevertheless.

These voices sparked something inside him because it had been a long time since he had last smiled, so, still uncertain but curious, he concentrated hard, trying to muddle through the confusion clouding his mind and weighing him down. It took him a while, but the more he struggled, the clearer the voices became, and all at once, his mind spat out the word 'twins', and then, one after the other, 'Fred', and 'George'.

And then Harry was suddenly staring at a dark ceiling, floundering for a hold on reality as he tried to sort out all the thoughts and memories fighting for a place in his head. He thought he heard someone call his name but he wasn't sure how long it was until he managed to focus on two blurs of red, faces similar and different at the same time.

_Twins_, his mind supplied again, hanging on to this word like a lifeline. It was the first word not Azkaban-related that he could recall with any modicum of clarity.

One twin said something about water and it took several seconds to connect 'water' to its definition, something that scared him a little, and the sudden shouting that followed all this didn't help. The noise suddenly disappeared and the other twin spoke again, words blending together so that Harry had to concentrate to make sense of them. He suddenly wanted to sit up, to get a good look at where he was, and because lying down like this wasn't a good position to be in on a good day.

The other twin (_Fred_, his mind offered helpfully.) leaned towards him and he automatically recoiled, not quite sure why he was moving.

But Fred only told him, words too fast to make much sense of them for a moment, that he would help him sit up. Well, Harry supposed this sounded harmless enough.

It was another struggle to get his lethargic limbs to move, but having Fred help him made it easier. It took another moment to process the question Fred asked before he could nod, and then he could only frown, confused and frustrated when the words after that came too fast. But Fred only repeated himself, and this time, Harry managed to pick up 'water' and 'George' and 'come in' and his mind managed to unscramble the question behind it, enough for him to nod once more.

The water George offered him was cool and fresh and Harry couldn't remember the last time he had something so good to drink, but he could only manage to hold down a little before he ran out of energy.

Leaning back, harry almost missed the next question (and why were there so many questions?) but he focused on the words again, staring hard at George's face to make out the worried expression on it.

"Harry, do you know who we are?"

Harry blinked, silent again as he processed this question. Did he know? The story from earlier came rushing back, and he shook his head a little to sort it out inside his mind. Was it true then? These two had tried to break him out?

"Twins," He croaked out, and he was startled to hear how different his voice sounded; deeper, but scratchy and hoarse as well. Maybe his memory had messed that up too.

On either side of him, the twins exchanged a suddenly almost crafty look before Fred spoke again. "That's right, Harry, we're the Weasley twins. I'm George, and he's Fred."

His mind immediately rebelled against this. His memories were already tangled; he didn't need other people trying to mess it up even more.

"No," He insisted, trying to show them how annoyed he was. "You're Fred, he's George."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of the wide grins that broke out on each twin's face, only that they conveyed more relief than humour.

"Our mistake, Harry," Fred all but crowed, face triumphant.

"Definitely," George agreed, expression bright. And then he said something else that Harry missed because movement by the door caught his eye and he quickly turned to look, not sure if whatever it was would be dangerous or not.

The man he saw, tall with around shoulder-length black hair, seemed to suck all the air out of Harry until he was gasping for breath, shrinking away from this unknown. It hurt, it hurt quite a lot to look at this man and he didn't know why, only that he needed to get away, but he was surrounded on all sides and there was nowhere to go-

There was a flurry of movement as Fred and George shifted to block his line of sight, but not before Harry saw another man, brown hair greying, dragging the black-haired man out of the room again.

It was suddenly much easier to breathe though and Harry blinked down at the blankets twisted between his fingers as he tried to stop shaking.

"Who-" He rasped out, not quite able to form the question, but he didn't need to when he caught the frowns the twins exchanged.

"That was..." George hesitated, smoothing down his sheets. "Well, that was-" Harry saw Fred elbow him. "Er, are you sure you want to know, Harry? Maybe we could tell you again some other time?"

Harry contemplated this for a moment. Yes, that seemed sensible. He nodded a little and George looked relieved again. They sat back down again and Fred reached over to gently detangle the blankets from his fingers. The silence gave Harry time to think and he had his next question ready by the time Fred leaned back again.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, words clumsy on his tongue.

"Grimmauld Place," Fred answered promptly. "It's Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix."

"The Order is a group of people who fight You-Know-Who," George jumped in. "And You-Know-Who is the evil bastard we're all fighting against."

Harry supposed they were trying to dumb it down for him but his head was still reeling after the short explanation. He knew You-Know-Who meant Voldemort; that was another memory that he had no trouble remembering. But it took him another long moment to understand what Order of the Phoenix meant, and another minute to take in Grimmauld Place.

"Why?" Harry finally settled on the most obvious question. Why was he here in Grimmauld Place and not Azkaban?

Both Fred's and George's expressions changed from calm to furious in the span of a second and Harry shrank away at the spike of anger coming from them. They noticed almost instantly and quickly settled back down again, with Fred offering in a soothing voice, "Sorry. Look, you're free, Harry. You'll be staying here from now on, or as long as you want. Do you understand?"

Harry's mind had blanked after 'free'. What did that mean, exactly? So, "Why?" He asked again, not quite understanding the dread snaking into both twins' features.

"Because you were never guilty, Harry," George tried, looking almost desperate. "It just took a very long time for people to see that."

Harry tried to make sense of this but his mind felt sluggish again and he couldn't connect the words George was saying to anything meaningful anymore and the brief lucidity he had had before now slipped from his grasp like a dream. But Fred and George still looked like they were waiting for an answer, so Harry settled for something he thought would be relatively safe.

"Okay. When am I going back then?"

The anguish on each face staring back at him startled him but neither twin attempted to explain, and, after a few seconds of silence, Fred offered him a strained smile and patted him on the shoulder. "We'll explain later, Harry. For now, why don't you get some more sleep? You look tired."

This seemed like an excellent idea because Harry's head was pounding and he could feel a familiar heaviness dragging him under again. Sleep was good; no one could hurt him when he slept.

So he nodded and let Fred and George help him lie down again. This time, he made sure to curl up, back against the bedside table so that he would have a clear view of the door.

"Good night, Harry," George murmured, and Harry felt a hand tousle his hair in a familiar gesture.

"Night, Harry," Fred echoed, and then he knew no more.

**r.R.r**

Closing the door behind him, George turned to face the crowd of pale-faced Order members standing in the hallway. He knew someone had broken his brother's silencing charm a while ago and they had heard everything that had been said. Sirius was standing near the back, slumped against the wall and wearing an expression so dead that he was surprised the man was still breathing.

Somehow, George couldn't bring himself to care.

"Well," His voice came out colder than he had ever heard it to be. "It looks like his mind's not all there. Big _fucking_ surprise. Then again, what exactly would you expect after sending a fifteen-year-old to Azkaban?"

Spinning on his heel, George stalked away, making his way to the bedroom he had moved into with Fred earlier that day. He would've liked nothing more than to get out of Grimmauld Place, but so far, he knew he was one of the few Harry seemed to allow near him without hyperventilating, so he would stay for as long as Harry wanted him to.

Fred watched his twin go before shrugging at the crowd in general. "I suggest not upsetting Harry, and, if he shows signs of waking, come and get me or George, just to be on the safe side."

He nodded a stiff goodnight before taking off after George. This night couldn't possibly get any worse.

**r.R.r**

Somewhere in the house, the grandfather clock chimed midnight, reverberating like a gong as it signaled the dawn of a new day.

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**Fourth chapter done! Reviews are very welcome!**


	5. Consequences

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thank you once again for all the reviews!**

**Note 2: No romance, as far as I can see, sorry.**

**Note 3: There will be an explanation as to what is going on with the war and Voldemort coming up. I'll fit that in as the fic moves along.**

**Note 4: Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 5 – Consequences**

_The truth doesn't hurt unless it ought to.  
-B. C. Forbes_

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**-August 1****st****, 2002-**

"How is Harry?"

Severus remained indifferent as Albus peered up at him from behind half-moon spectacles. "Potter woke up momentarily last night. Lupin says he interacted briefly with the Weasley twins but had a..." His lip curled into a sneer. "Panic attack when he caught sight of Black."

Albus frowned sternly at him but didn't bother with a reprimand. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully. "That is good news; Harry will just need time. At the very least, he recognizes Sirius to a certain degree."

Severus eyed the Headmaster suspiciously but refrained from asking. Honestly, he didn't really want to talk about Potter. He knew Albus Dumbledore quite well; behind the grandfather facade rested a sharp, manipulative mind that eventually drew everyone into its grasp. The older wizard had been doing it for so long that Severus was convinced he didn't know how to stop. It didn't matter that the blame lay largely on Albus' shoulders when it came to Potter, and Severus didn't want any part in whatever scheme the man was cooking up this time.

But Albus said nothing more on the subject, asking in a graver tone, "And Tom?"

"Lucius and I reported to him last night. He knows of Potter's newfound innocence but does not seem overly concerned about it. We have both assured him of Potter's near-vegetative state."

Albus nodded again. "Excellent. Be sure to downplay Harry's condition as much as possible. We don't want Tom coming after Harry before he is ready."

Severus immediately narrowed his eyes. "'Ready', Albus?" He repeated warily.

"Of course," Albus confirmed, clasping his hands. "I regret what happened to Harry very much, but he is free again and there is the Prophecy to consider."

Severus said nothing, ignoring the sense of wrongness he felt at these words. If Albus thought this was for the best (_Albus thought locking up Harry Potter was for the best, but he was wrong_, a voice that sounded like Lily whispered furiously at the back of his mind.), then it wasn't any of his business to interfere.

Albus didn't seem to notice the turmoil slowly broiling inside his best spy. "On to other matters; have we received word from the American Ministry of Magic?"

Severus shook his head once. "And we probably won't. All of Europe is virtually under quarantine. The Dark Lord has Britain almost completely surrounded. I hardly need to remind you that Spain is only days away from falling. With it under the Dark Lord's rule as well, only France, Italy, Romania, and Bulgaria remain standing against him."

Albus breathed in deeply. "I realize that, Severus. I will call another Order meeting, and I believe it is time to pull the British Aurors from Spain."

Severus started a little. "You mean to abandon Spain? They have been one of our closest allies since the very beginning of the Dark Lord's second rise."

"And yet they are about to fall," Albus countered, blue eyes hard. "We must cut our losses while we can, Severus. Once Tom conquers Spain, our Aurors will not be able to return safely. The only reason he has been concentrating his efforts elsewhere is because Harry has not been a threat and he wishes to expand his reign across Europe first. Now that Harry has been freed, I believe Tom will once again turn his attention back to Britain. We will need all the help we can get once that time comes."

Severus frowned but said nothing more. He supposed it made sense in the greater scheme of things but he couldn't help but feel sick at the thought of another country falling to the Dark Lord's rule.

"I will take it up with Cornelius," Albus announced, rising from behind his desk. "And then perhaps I will stop by for a visit with Harry. I do wish to apologize."

"No," Severus found himself saying before he had time to process it. "The potions I administered earlier this morning are sure to make him tired." No they wouldn't. Where were these words coming from? "Potter will be sleeping for quite a while. It will be a waste of time."

Albus hmm'ed thoughtfully as he stopped by his fireplace. "Very well, perhaps tomorrow then."

Severus inclined his head before making a quick escape, scowling in consternation as he stalked towards his dungeons. What was wrong with him? If Albus wanted to talk to Potter, he was welcome to it!

And yet... Severus frowned harder as he slammed his office door behind him.

The entire situation simply did not sit well with him, for reasons he had no desire to figure out.

**r.R.r**

When he woke up again, Harry had the distinct feeling that he was not alone.

It took him several minutes to remember that he was no longer in Azkaban, and then another few minutes to remember his earlier conversation with the Weasley twins. He couldn't recall everything, but he managed to sort out the more important bits after a moment.

In the meantime, he made sure to keep his eyes closed and his breathing even. It was a habit from being with Dementors for so long; if the prison guards didn't know you were at least somewhat conscious, they wouldn't waste time drawing closer to torment you.

Now what had the twins told him? He was in Grimmauld Place, Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. He had been given a bedroom and a bed to sleep in because...

Because what? Why wasn't he in Azkaban again?

A quiet rustle drew Harry out of his muddled thoughts and he cautiously blinked open his eyes, immediately squinting when light pierced them.

The room took a moment to focus in front of him and he remembered that he no longer had his glasses anymore. Hesitantly, he struggled to rise, arms trembling a little as he pushed himself up.

Looking around, Harry couldn't immediately see anyone else. His gaze darted to the source of light and noted the sunlight seeping in even from behind the drawn curtains. It was too bright to focus on for more than a few seconds so Harry looked away again, taking in the rest of the room.

It was as he scanned the room that he finally found the source of his apprehension. A large black dog sat near the foot of his bed, staring back at him with steady dark eyes. Harry instantly tensed, eyeing the animal guardedly as his mind scrambled to figure out why it seemed so familiar. Hesitantly, he shifted closer to the edge of the bed, pausing to see if the dog was some kind of guard and would attempt to stop him if he tried to get up.

The dog only continued staring at him, and Harry found the look on its face quite peculiar. Were animals supposed to be able to show such human emotion? He couldn't really identify the expression on the dog's face, but at the very least, Harry didn't think it was about to attack him.

Slowly, he swung his legs over the side, bracing his bare feet on the floorboards before pushing off the bed. A sense of vertigo overtook him and for a wavering moment, Harry thought he might fall flat on his face. He reached out blindly and managed to grab hold of the bedside table before he toppled to the ground. In Azkaban, there wasn't really a need for standing. Crawling got him around his cell perfectly fine.

Drawing a shaky breath, Harry eased his grip and managed to stand, swaying, on his feet before raising his head again.

He took a startled step back when he found the black dog on its feet, only a few paces away and wearing a bewildering look of concern on its face. The dog must have picked up on Harry's discomfort though because it quickly took a few steps back and even sat down on its haunches again, peering up at him from its lesser height.

Harry kept his eyes glued on the dog for a moment longer before looking over at the window again. He hadn't seen sunlight in so long.

Stumbling a little, Harry made his way over to the bay window seat, collapsing on it without much grace. Reaching out, he tugged back part of the curtain, immediately shying away as the sunlight became brighter, spilling in through the glass and making his eyes water.

But there was _sunlight_.

Slowly, eyes narrowed to fend off some of the pain, Harry turned back to the window and peered outside. There was a street, with lamplights, unlit of course, lined along the sidewalk. There were trees, and it took a moment to connect the sight to the word. Harry tried not to think about what that meant; it was certainly a scary thought. The leaves on the trees were green, swaying a little from an invisible breeze, and everything was awash with sunlight.

Harry couldn't remember a more beautiful sight.

He flattened a hand against the window pane and pressed closer, a part of him hoping he would simply tumble through.

A sound behind him made him twist around again, instinctively flattening himself against the window as a soft voice called out, "Sirius, don't tell you went back in again. I thought we agreed-"

The voice came to an abrupt halt as a man with greying brown hair stepped into the room, mouth hanging open as he caught sight of Harry. It was several seconds before Harry remembered this person from the last time he had woken up, and he suddenly had to stave off a dull pain in his chest as he met hazel-coloured eyes.

"Harry?" The man spoke faintly, looking shaken.

Harry didn't answer, gaze flitting to the black dog instead when it rose and trotted over to Remus, glancing between them anxiously.

The man patted the dog's head absently, eyes never straying from Harry. "Er," He started haltingly. "Good morning, Harry. Do you- do you know where you are?"

Harry nodded silently. Fred and George had already covered that last time.

"Good, that's good," The man seemed at a loss for words after that so Harry offered the only reason he could think of as to why the man was in the room.

"Do I have to go back now?" The words sounded hoarse and they tripped awkwardly over each other but Harry managed to string the question together.

The man looked blank while the dog beside him jerked as if it had been shot. "'Back'?"

"To Azkaban," Harry clarified uncertainly. Wasn't that why the man was here?

The man flinched, gaze dropping with something like shame before lifting again. "No, Harry, no," He shook his head emphatically. "I was just- I just wanted to check you were okay."

Harry stared hard at him, trying to understand. "Then when am I going back?" He asked. He wanted to know how much more time he would have with the trees and the street and the sunlight.

The man closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing his features as the dog released a strangled whine.

"You're not going back," The man finally said, words slow and sure as he opened his eyes again. "You are never going back to Azkaban, Harry."

Harry blinked in consternation. He wasn't sure, but he thought the twins might have said something similar. They hadn't been able to explain though; maybe this person could. "Why?"

The man scrubbed a hand over his face, expression becoming distraught. "Because you don't belong there. Because you're innocent, Harry."

A strange rushing sound overtook Harry's senses and his left hand, still resting against the window pane, unconsciously clenched into a fist. His mind struggled to make sense of the words, of one word in particular, of being _innocent_, and everything that came with that word.

Memories crashed against his skull, strong and unyielding as he was tossed into a world of confusion.

He saw keys with wings and a giant chess set, a ruby stone and a two-faced man. He saw a blue car and spiders, a blank-paged diary and a giant snake. He saw a dog and a rat and a cat, a moving tree and a silver wolf and a flying hippogriff. He saw dragons and water and a sphinx, a cup and a graveyard and a silver hand. He saw death and dark cells and hooded figures.

And he screamed.

Harry didn't know how long he screamed, but when something other than pain and confusion and fear and memories (_of my life, I'm remembering my life_) seeped into his senses, he found himself curled on the ground, floorboards hard against his body as his entire being shook.

He felt weak and a little sick and a lot dizzy, but for the first time in a long, long while, his mind was clear.

There were still spots in his memory, as Harry discovered when he cautiously thought of his past, but it was an improvement from the half-lucid state he had been living in before. He could remember what had happened to his parents without the presence of Dementors, though he couldn't quite recall their names at the moment. And he could remember what had happened in the graveyard with Cedric and Wormtail and Voldemort, though he couldn't recall all the Death Eaters that had been there as well.

As his heart rate slowed and his lungs stopped struggling for the next breath, Harry gradually became aware of his surroundings again. It was very silent, but the air around him was heavy with tension and he had no need to look to know that he was surrounded.

What to do next? The twins had told him that he was in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, which consisted of people fighting against Voldemort. He thought of the black dog and the brown-haired man from earlier and wondered how he could've forgotten Sirius Black and Remus Lupin even as his chest burned with hurt and anger borne from betrayal.

Harry shoved these emotions out of the way. There would be time to curse or cry or shout later. Remus, and he supposed the twins, had told him he was free now, that he was _innocent_. A mad urge to laugh welled up inside him and Harry knew that Azkaban had unhinged him at least a little. Wonderful.

Well, nothing would change just by lying on the ground. He might as well sit up and get some answers while he still could. He didn't know how long this window of clarity would remain with him and he needed to get his bearings as quickly as possible.

Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, taking care not to actually look at anyone as he leaned back against the window seat. Drawing a fortifying breath, he slowly raised his head and scanned the room.

The opposite side of the bedroom was completely filled. People were standing nervously against the far wall or crammed inside the doorway, all looking at him with a mixture of anxiety and concern.

_Concern_, his mind mocked. _Not much help now_.

Harry swallowed and tried to pick out the familiar faces. His quickly swept over his godfather and surrogate uncle; he didn't really feel like looking at them at the moment, or really, anytime soon.

Instead, he picked out the people with red hair and found, with a surge of disbelief and dread, the familiar-foreign face of his once-best-friend.

Merlin, how many years had passed?

Maybe he was mistaken. That brief hope died when he quickly found Bill and Charlie in the crowd. Neither of them had changed much from the last time he had seen them, though there were a few lines on their faces that hadn't been there before, and Bill's hair was even longer, extending past his shoulders now.

He found Percy as well, standing beside his older brothers. Percy was also different; he had lost most of the pompous stance Harry remembered the older wizard portraying when in public, and was almost slouching a little instead. His eyes were worried, and Harry remembered a few times they had been that way before because of him; the time he had tripped over a chicken at the Burrow and almost cracked his head open as a result had been one.

Harry found Ginny as well, long hair tied back in a ponytail and eyeing him nervously. He could no longer see any of the girl he had once associated with Ron's sister.

The twins he had already re-met, and he recalled the story of these two attempting a break-in; he made a mental note to thank them later.

Broadening his search, he found Hermione, brown curls much sleeker and startlingly grown-up as well.

He looked again and picked out other familiar faces; Neville, tall and broad-shouldered, with a young blonde woman standing next to him, pale-faced and wide-eyed; he wondered if they were married. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley near the right, worried frowns marring their features and a few grey hairs amongst the red. He thought he recognized Fleur Delacour from the Triwizard Tournament standing next to Bill but wasn't quite sure what she was doing there. And he found Professor Moody, magical eye still for once, near the back, with a pink-haired woman on his left and a bald black man on his right.

There were several other foreign faces in the crowd, but the one that startled him most was the thin, hook-nosed man standing off to the side, black eyes meeting his evenly as Harry turned to him.

"Finished, Potter?" Snape asked dryly, and Harry was surprised at the large amount of relief that came with this question. But it was familiar in its usual cutting acerbity, a piece of constancy in a world he no longer knew, and Harry found that comforting in and of itself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius take a step forward, mouth opening to no doubt rebuke Snape, but Harry had no desire to hear his godfather speak so he answered, voice hoarse and still aching from his earlier screams, "Yes, Professor."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Potter, you're somewhat behind the times. I've long since stopped being your professor."

Harry stilled before forcing out his next question. He had to know. "How long... has it been?" He asked haltingly.

There was no pity in Snape's eyes. "Seven years."

Harry barely heard the sharp exclamations from the majority of the crowd, no doubt displeased with Snape's bluntness.

Seven years. _Seven years_.

Well, that wasn't very long. Definitely not as long as Sirius'. Compared with one lifetime, it wasn't very long at all.

Who the _bloody hell_ was he trying to kid?

Seven years.

Harry was very glad he was sitting down because he doubted he could've stayed standing as his head reeled from the revelation.

Seven years. No wonder his friends looked so much older now. He _was_ older. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to look into a mirror anytime soon.

He took a deep breath. As good as passing out sounded at the moment, he wasn't certain he really wanted to be completely unconscious in a house filled with people who used to think he was a murderer, not to mention he still needed answers.

So he nodded instead, trying not to show how much the news affected him.

"I see," He croaked out as steadily as he could, eyes finding Snape's again only to blink when he thought he caught a flash of grudging respect on the Potions Master's face. Probably a trick of the light. "Then I'm..." He paused to count. "Twenty-two?"

Snape nodded curtly. "Today is the first of August, 2002, around eleven in the morning."

First of August. His birthday had been yesterday.

He nodded again, and then asked, "So I'm... free?"

The word felt foreign on his tongue but Harry was more distracted by the many people flinching in front of him. He had to fight down another mad cackle and tried to settle his thoughts and emotions a little. He didn't want them to think he was crazy, even though he probably was.

Again, Snape nodded, sharply. Harry idly wondered why he was being so accommodating but decided to take advantage of it while it lasted.

"So why... am I suddenly... free?" To his dismay, Harry still found it difficult to string together more than a handful of words. He desperately hoped that this would get better as more time passed.

There was an awkward silence that followed his question until Snape sneered and laid it out for him. "A Death Eater was captured, interrogated, and the truth was revealed. You do know the truth, do you not?"

Harry released a humourless bark of laughter before he could stop it. "Oh yes, of course. Voldemort loved to gloat."

The whole room winced for various reasons and it was Remus who spoke next, face suddenly drained of colour. "What- What do you mean?"

Harry finally turned to look at his former professor. Remus certainly didn't look well. He was thinner and greyer than Harry remembered, and there were deep bags under his eyes. His clothes were as shabby as ever and exhaustion and worry creased his brow.

Harry thought he really should be more sympathetic than he felt at the moment.

"I woke up... in a cell," He reminded the werewolf, ignoring the guilt that immediately flooded Remus' features. "Didn't know why. Voldemort visited. Liked to hear... himself talk."

"He visited?"

Harry found Moody again, staring intently at him with an unreadable expression. "Yes," He thought back to red eyes and cold smile. "The Dementors... helped him."

Harry fell silent again, shifting his gaze away. He still hadn't looked directly at Sirius, wasn't sure he actually wanted to, and he had run out of questions for the moment. Really, he just wanted to be alone.

As if reading his mind, Snape spoke up again. "Well Potter, as interesting as this is, I have better things to do than watch you get your head back in order without hurting yourself."

Harry had to suppress a snort of amusement. What was wrong with him?

Snape walked over to the bedside table and placed down five vials, pointing at each with a mocking sneer. "Nutrient potion, Pepper-up, Calming Draught, Dreamless Sleep, and Eye-Correction potion. Take any, all, or none; it is up to you. If you somehow manage to poison yourself in the attempt, do make sure you're dead before you come asking for seconds."

With that said, Snape stalked from the room, robes swirling around him exactly the way Harry remembered them to.

"Rude bugger," Ron muttered in the following silence. "Hasn't changed a bit since we were in school." He paused, blinking uncertainly at Harry.

Harry wasn't in the mood to be friendly. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't in the mood to be much of anything. His mind, while sharper now, was also starting to struggle and he knew his brief moment of mental stability would most likely fade soon.

So he pinned the tall redhead with a flat stare and took a leaf out of his former Potions professor's book. "If I want to... poison myself, Ron, I'd like to... be able to do it... in peace."

Apparently, nobody could take a hint because they all just stared at him, growing horror in their expressions. No wonder Snape was so snarky all the time; these people were all... dunderheads.

Merlin help him, he was turning into Snape.

"Get out," Harry clarified, and when they still didn't seem to get it, Harry gritted his teeth and released the hardened anger that had been building in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't yell; he didn't think he had enough energy anyway. But his voice came out flat and cold, rasping in his throat.

"Get out," He repeated. "I don't want... to see any of you... right now."

The ones who didn't know him personally moved first, grabbing whoever was closest and ushering them to the door. Those who did know him suddenly couldn't seem to look at him any longer, gazes dropping to the ground as they shuffled out of the room.

"You two are exceptions," Harry allowed when he found the Weasley twins trying to catch his eye, something very close to fear on their faces before Harry spoke. "But I want... to be alone now. Come back later."

The relief that spread across their features spoke volumes and they shot him small grins before slipping out of the room.

A heartbeat later, Harry wished they hadn't left so soon after all because he found himself alone with his godfather again. He gritted his teeth and finally turned to face Sirius, keeping his own expression impassive. The man was standing just inside the door, ignoring Remus' attempt to tug him out of the bedroom.

"Sorry Harry, sorry," Remus babbled nervously, pulling at Sirius' arm. "He's just a bit-" He leaned forward. "Come _on_, Sirius!"

Sirius simply dug in his heels and stared at Harry, eyes dark with a storm of emotion. And when he spoke at last, Harry wanted to hit him.

"Harry, pup, I'm really sorry about- about everything," Sirius' hands fluttered a little in front of him as if the man didn't know what to do with them. "I know you'll never forgive me, and I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I am sorry, and I just wanted to say that if you need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask." He paused again to run a hand through his hair. Now that he had gotten started, he seemed unable to stop. Remus had long since foregone trying to pull him out.

"You're my godson and I should've stood by you no matter what, even if the entire world was against you, and I've got no excuse for what I did. Your father would kill me and Lily would do far worse than that and I just-"

He stopped abruptly when Harry held up a shaking hand, eyes wide. He looked like a man at the top of a bottomless drop, desperation and fear and a dark sense of hopelessness threatening to engulf him.

Harry studied him for a moment before striking. "I waited. You didn't come, Sirius."

Something shattered in Sirius as the words hit. Grey eyes dulled and shoulders slumped. "I-" He cleared his throat with difficulty. "No, I didn't."

Harry nodded, once. "Now get out."

This time, there was no protest as Sirius turned meekly away, letting Remus lead him out. The werewolf glanced back at Harry, sorrow marring his features, but he didn't say anything either and both men disappeared without another word.

Harry stared after them, eyes blank. He did not move again for a very long time.

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**Fifth chapter finished! Review, review, review! How did I do? Was everything captured alright?**


	6. Changes All Around

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Love the reviews! They really give me incentive to write more!**

**Note 2: Once and for all, there will most likely be NO PAIRING for Harry.**

**Note 3: This chapter could be considered an info session so it'll be more talking.**

**Note 4: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Changes All Around**

_In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.  
-Robert Frost_

* * *

**-August 1****st****, 2002-**

"Sirius, you should eat something. It's past dinner time."

Remus stared wearily at the motionless figure lying in the bed, back to the rest of the world.

"Sirius, please," He tried again. "Don't do this. Come down for something to eat. Molly's wrapped up your portion."

There was no reply and Remus held back the panic threatening to choke him. He walked over to the bed and reached down to shake a shoulder.

"Sirius, starving yourself isn't going to change anything!" Remus barked out, fear sharpening his voice. "Harry's still going to be mad and all this is still going to be reality! _Wallowing_ in- in _self-pity_ won't change-"

"His first word was 'dada', Remus," Sirius interrupted, finally rolling onto his back, and Remus blinked at the wrinkled photo the other Marauder was holding. He peered at it and instantly had to swallow a lump in his throat when he caught sight of a baby Harry laughing in the arms of a younger, carefree Sirius, who ran around the Potter sitting room, cackling gleefully as James chased after them.

"Do you remember, Remus?" Grey eyes continued staring desolately at the picture. "We were all so excited that Harry finally said his first word, and James was thrilled until he realized Harry was saying it to the wrong person." A ragged half-laugh, half-sob sounded at the back of his throat. "Almost gave me a black eye when Harry kept calling me that. Accused me of being 'too happy' about it, which I was, actually. If I hadn't known better though, I would've thought Harry was doing it on purpose to get me in trouble."

Remus closed his eyes and finally gave up on his attempt to coax Sirius out of bed, grabbing the nearest chair and sinking down into it.

"Why didn't we ever question it, Moony?" Sirius asked after another empty silence. "I mean, it's _Harry_."

"There was evidence-" Remus started half-heartedly.

"So _what_?" Sirius cut off savagely, self-loathing clear in his voice. "Even if we had _seen_ Harry do all those things, we still should have thought he was under the Imperius or something. Even if he had _denied_ being under the Imperius, we should have taken him and run! And we didn't even _see_ it!"

"There's no point telling me now, Sirius," Remus snapped back rather tersely. "There are a lot of things we should have done or could have done but we didn't and we can't change that now."

Their conversation trailed off again, both too tired and miserable to carry on with that train of thought.

"There's no need to worry about me offing myself, Moony," Sirius assured abruptly. Remus turned his head a little to glance down at the man. Sirius offered him a weak smile. "I don't even have that right anymore. What if Harry needs something from me later on? Tomorrow, or next month, or a decade from now? I have to be there to give it to him. It's the very least I can do. The only thing I can do now."

Remus couldn't help the rush of relief that came with those words, no matter how numb he felt upon hearing them. Heaving a sigh, he leaned back in the chair and prepared for another sleepless night. At least he'd have Sirius to keep him company.

**r.R.r**

"And take this too," Molly urged, heaping a stack of extra-thick blankets into George's arms. Fred was already levitating three medium-sized trays, all laid out with a wide variety of food.

George heaved a sigh and told his mother bluntly, "Mum, Harry's fresh out of Azkaban," He ignored the way she flinched. "He's not going to be able to stand being enclosed with all these blankets, or stomach all that food either."

Molly's eyes filled with tears and George glanced away uncomfortably. "Just bring it up to him," She ordered in a shaky voice. "So that he'll be able to take his pick. And just leave the blankets in the room, just in case he gets cold."

George sighed again but nodded resignedly and shifted for a better grip on the blankets before following Fred up the stairs.

On the second landing, Fred manoeuvred the trays behind him before knocking twice on Harry's door. "Harry?" He called out, remembering to slow his words a little just in case. "It's Gred and Forge. Can we come in?"

There was a short silence before a murmured assent answered them and Fred pushed the door open with a relieved grin. It would be just their luck if Harry forgot again.

The twins stepped into the room, eyes darting to Harry immediately. He was still seated on the floor by the window seat, skin even paler against the dark floorboards.

Without pausing, George dumped the extra blankets onto the floor and hurried over to Harry, only slowing when he drew nearer. Fred was a step behind him, stopping only to place the trays of food on the wooden desk in the corner.

"Harry, have you been sitting here all day?" George crouched down beside him. "You could catch a cold, you know."

Dull green eyes blinked tiredly back at him before he received a half-shrug. "I'm fine."

George just shook his head. "Come on; let's get you off the floor." He didn't try to scoop the younger wizard up; weak though Harry was, George rather liked his nose unbroken. Instead, he wrapped an arm around the unhealthily narrow waist and helped the man to his feet. It took a moment for Harry to adjust, legs shaking a little, but he steadied soon enough and made his way back to the bed.

"Now then," Fred made himself comfortable at the end of Harry's bed while George grabbed a chair to sit on. "You've got everything from soup to steak to pasta to pick from. What would you like?"

Harry glanced at the trays of food. Fred wondered if Harry would turn it all down, but suppressed a sigh of relief when he asked for the soup.

They didn't watch him eat; telling him some more of their joke shop instead. Harry looked like he understood most of what they were saying, but now and then, he would frown a little, and they would immediately go into more detail, careful to keep their voices light.

They fell silent when Harry finally put aside the empty bowl, observing him anxiously. Harry looked back at them, resting an arm on a raised knee.

"You really tried... to break me out?" Harry asked at last.

George exchanged a glance with his twin. "Well yeah," He nodded, leaning forward a little. "You weren't supposed to be in there."

Fred looked rueful as he flopped onto his back. "Didn't work though, and we couldn't try again. We weighed our chances of course, but the probability of getting caught was too high."

Harry nodded. "I wouldn't have... wanted you to. Getting your dad fired... wouldn't be..." He seemed to struggle for a word that wouldn't come. "Would be bad," He finished.

Fred and George took it in stride, though they shared a darkly amused look before George continued, "Harry, dad was put on probation, but that wasn't why we didn't try again."

"Yeah Harry," Fred agreed, turning onto his side to peer up at the younger wizard. "Sure, dad losing his job would suck, but he was mostly doing Order work anyway and there are still several others working in the Ministry."

"We didn't try again because Dumbledore threatened you with the Kiss if we did." George's face twisted into an ugly expression.

Harry jerked a little. "What?"

Fred scowled. "Yeah, pulled us aside after interrogating us in front of the entire Order. Said you were a bad influence on us-"

"-and that if you were still putting 'dangerous ideas' into our heads even from inside Azkaban-"

"-then maybe a more permanent solution had to be found."

"Can't get more permanent than the Dementor's Kiss, mate," George said gravely. "And we just weren't good enough to ensure a success if we tried again. Sorry, Harry."

Harry seemed frozen in place at this revelation but he shook his head after a while, studying them with something like puzzlement. "Why are you... apologizing?"

Fred kicked a foot in the air. "Harry, you were locked up for seven years and we couldn't do anything about it. We couldn't even visit because the Aurors always refused us. We're Weasleys; we don't have much political pull, so it wasn't as if we could demand to see you. At least not successfully anyway-"

"Yeah," George agreed. "We demanded quite a bit actually, fat lot of good that did us."

Harry remained confused. "But why did you try... in the first place?" He suddenly appeared faintly embarrassed. "Not that I'm not... grateful, but you're just Ron's brothers-" He stopped again, struggling to explain himself. "Not that I don't... consider you friends, I do, but..."

He trailed off, but Fred leapt in, features uncharacteristically stern. "Now you listen here, Harry," He started solemnly, pushing up into a sitting position.

"We may not be related by blood-" George continued, equally firm.

"-but we still consider you-"

"-our little brother,-"

"-and Weasleys-"

"-true Weasleys-"

"-indeed, Gred; don't know what's wrong with the rest of our family-"

"-always-"

"-_always_ always-"

"-_always_ _always_ always times infinity; you can't beat me Forge-"

"-shut up, Gred; put family first."

"Understand?" They chorused.

Harry stared back at them, eyes wide, and then a corner of his mouth twitched up, just a little. The twins exchanged a triumphant grin.

"Understood," Harry replied before ducking his head a bit. "Thanks."

"No need, little brother," George told him cheerfully.

"You would've done the same for us," Fred nodded. "Except you would've succeeded."

"It's probably a Harry Potter thing," George added wistfully. "You get away with all sorts of trouble; pull off death-defying stunts like they're going out of style-"

"-brush teeth, eat breakfast, slay a basilisk before lunch-"

"-go to work, mouth off to Voldie, be back for afternoon tea-"

They stopped when a hoarse chuckle slipped from Harry's mouth and they beamed when the green eyes watching them lit up with near-forgotten laughter.

"You two never change," Harry voiced, his mouth tilted up in a crooked smile.

"And we never will," Fred assured him decisively.

They settled down again into a comfortable silence, George leaning back to prop his legs up on the bed, sticking socked feet in his twin's face. Fred wrinkled his nose and tickled the soles until George shifted.

"What's it like out there?" Harry spoke up again abruptly.

The room instantly became more sombre.

"Ah, well," George ran a hand through his hair. "You-Know-Who's been quite busy-"

"-hopping all over Europe, taking down one country at a time-" Fred said with a faint grimace.

"-Ireland went first, put up a huge fight but You-Know-Who wiped out half their population eventually-"

"-then Norway went, and Sweden followed soon after-"

"-Finland kicked up a fuss before You-Know-Who cut their ranks down to size-" George paused at Harry's haunted expression but Fred continued when Harry glanced at him.

"Denmark practically handed themselves over-"

"-but to be fair, they are a pretty small country-"

"-Germany's been fighting tooth and nail for five years but they were finally defeated too-"

"-got ambushed from behind, you see. You-Know-Who sent a bunch of his minions through Finland and into Poland-"

"-Poland went down in about a month; apparently, their Aurors aren't too smart about war-"

"-Czec Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary are as good as wiped off the map-"

"-Austria was still fighting up until about six months ago but we lost them overnight when You-Know-Who sent his giants over-"

"-who then snuck into Switzerland when we weren't looking. Country's not actually a country anymore; it's pretty much just a battlefield for France and Italy-"

"-that's about the only good news we have; they're still fighting-"

"-as are Romania and Bulgaria, but they're mostly cut off from us. We can only send people through international floo and that's not much help. The only reason they're still standing is because of all the dragons they've got there-"

"-not even Voldie's crazy enough to attack dragons head-on."

"Then there's Spain, but everyone knows they're days away from falling. We're helping them as best we can but the situation looks pretty hopeless-"

"-and Portugal's just flat-out refused to help-"

"-idiot buggers think You-Know-Who will just leave them alone if they don't interfere-"

"-and the rest of the countries are all just trying to remain neutral and pretend our charming Chief Death Eater isn't taking over Europe as we speak."

Fred fell silent at last and they both stared anxiously at Harry to gauge his reaction. The younger wizard had a distant look in his eyes, head resting on a forearm as he took in the new world he had emerged in.

"Has there been... any help from... other places?" Harry questioned haltingly.

George shook his head. "Europe's under quarantine. No one's said it, but what else do you call it when the rest of the world's got every wand trained on us? They'll be blasting us off the face of the planet as soon as You-Know-Who's finished his little parade."

"So no help from the outside," Harry sighed, shoulders hunching a little.

Fred studied him with a critical eye. "What will you do?" He asked quietly.

Harry glanced away before looking back at them. "I don't want to fight," He admitted softly.

"Then don't," George shrugged easily. "You don't owe the Wizarding World anything Harry, never did, and you owe them even less now."

"And what?" Harry countered wearily. "Europe's under... quarantine. I probably... won't even be able to... leave Britain."

The twins were silent for a long minute.

"He'll ask," Fred warned grimly.

"Definitely ask," George nodded. "Maybe even force."

Harry frowned at them. "Who?"

"Dumbledore," They intoned together.

"He's leader of the Order," Fred explained. "And you're strong, Harry. Seven years in Azkaban doesn't change that fact. A little polishing up and he'll be putting you on the front lines before you can say 'manipulative bastard'."

Harry automatically tensed.

"He'll have to go through us, of course," George promised swiftly. "And probably most of the Order too. But, well, it's _Dumbledore_. That man gets what he wants."

Harry didn't reply immediately, eyes moving around the room instead, tracing the far wall as he thought.

"I don't... want to stay here," Harry voiced hollowly. "I could... move. To... somewhere." One hand came up to rub at his eyes.

Fred got up, stretching a little. "You don't have to decide right away, Harry."

"Yeah, get some rest while you can. Get better, and play sick in the meantime." George agreed, reaching over to tousle Harry's hair.

Harry looked too tired to do more than swat half-heartedly at George.

"Get some rest, Harry," Fred told him, pulling the covers back so Harry could slide under. "We can talk more tomorrow."

Harry blinked owlishly up at them before nodding once in agreement. He was out like a light before either twin had time to do more than tuck him in.

"He's twenty-two but it's like he's fifteen and ninety at the same time," Fred commented in a low voice.

"I know what you mean," George sighed, shaking his head. "And I don't think it's normal to fall asleep that fast."

"He's been up all day," Fred offered hopefully. "That's a major difference from yesterday. He's probably just tired. He'll get better."

George nodded and didn't bother voicing his fears. He knew Fred was already thinking them.

* * *

**Sixth chapter done! It's a bit shorter this time but please review and tell me what you thought! Were the twins in character?**


	7. Diverging Paths

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thanks for all the reviews! There were a few points brought up that I'll clear up here.**

**First of all, Harry's not going to just ditch everything and let Voldemort take over. Yeah, he's pissed. He might never get over the betrayals, but he's not a merciless killer either. He's not going to let a personal grudge against some people skewer his sense of right and wrong. That's a major point in Harry's character from the books; Harry has always stood firmly by what he believes to be right. No matter what they did to him, letting people die is wrong, and that is what will happen to most of Europe if he lets Voldemort win. His incarceration can't be blamed on the entire Wizarding World and Harry's never been one to run away from everything either. He just won't be following Dumbledore's plans for him.**

**Secondly, Dumbledore is going to be pretty infuriating in this fic. Just a warning, because his attitude's probably going to make you feel like tearing out your hair.**

**Thirdly, the books never really went into Fred and George's characters in depth, so I'm expanding them on the general idea that the canon gave them. If it's a bit weird, well, they're partly my development anyway.**

**Fourth, Harry's not going to be storming the Ministry anytime soon. For one, he's not strong enough physically or mentally. Then there's Dumbledore, enough said. And after leaving Azkaban so soon, Harry's not going to want all eyes on him.**

**On a side note, someone mentioned that he had no facial hair. We'll assume Sirius and Poppy cleaned him up a bit before putting him to bed.**

**Lastly, the Muggles don't know about magic, but you'll find out more about them in this chapter.**

**Note 2: Without further ado, on to the next chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Diverging Paths**

_Argument is meant to reveal the truth, not to create it.  
-Edward de Bono_

* * *

**-August 2****nd****, 2002-**

A meeting had been called, though only about half could make it. The Weasleys were all accounted for, Mad-Eye was sitting on the side with Tonks, Remus and Sirius had trooped in at the last minute, and Hermione, Neville and Luna pulled up chairs beside Ron.

Dumbledore was the last to appear, taking his place at the head of the table as everyone settled down.

"Is everyone here?" Dumbledore peered out over the crowd.

There was a stilted silence. While meetings were never what one would call joyful, the mood usually wasn't so cold either.

"Kingsley isn't here yet," Tonks finally volunteered, hair bristling brown with worry.

Dumbledore nodded. "Kingsley can't get away from work. He is just finishing something at the Ministry."

Tonks relaxed a little and her hair turned an interesting shade of aquamarine.

"Well then, let's get started," Dumbledore looked from face to face, features grave. "I understand that the misunderstanding with Harry has left many of us off-balance, but I hope we can all move past that and concentrate on the war effort. Tom will expect us to lower our guard; we must not give him a chance to gain more territory."

"'Misunderstanding?'" George challenged almost before the Headmaster finished. "You call locking up an innocent teenager for seven years a 'misunderstanding'?"

Blue eyes became mournful as Dumbledore sighed deeply. "My deepest apologies, Mister Weasley. I assure you, if I had known-"

"We're not talking about this right now," Mad-Eye barked from his corner, magical eye spinning. "This is an Order meeting. If anyone wants to chat about Potter afterwards, feel free, but we concentrate on the war when we're meeting about the war."

George scowled but said nothing and Dumbledore nodded his agreement.

"Alastor is correct," Mad-Eye seemed to frown even more at this. "Let us move on to the issue of Spain."

Dumbledore clasped his hands on the table. "Cornelius has agreed to withdraw our Aurors from Spain."

There was an instant uproar.

"Spain's been helping us fight You-Know-Who since the beginning!" Charlie cut in indignantly. "We can't just abandon them!"

"It does seem like Spain will fall within the week," Bill added more quietly. "And while there's not much we can do about the people who refuse to leave, we should still do all we can to evacuate whoever wants to get out before it's too late."

Dumbledore held up a hand for quiet. "I understand where you are coming from, but with Harry out of Azkaban, Tom will most likely focus his attention back on Britain. We must be prepared. Having our Aurors spread out all over Europe will only be detrimental to us in the future."

"If that's true, then I'm surprised you haven't recalled the Aurors we sent to our other allies," Sirius retorted sharply, arms crossed.

"Is that a suggestion, Sirius?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled irritably. Sirius held back the urge to punch him. "We will, of course, eventually need to recall them, but for now, it is best to lend a hand to our allies. Nevertheless, it is an idea worth thinking ab-"

"It wasn't a suggestion," Sirius growled. "Albus, how do you expect to win against Voldemort without allies? Because that's exactly what will happen if you head down this path any further. We need to fight Voldemort together, with the other countries, if we want to bring him down!"

"Things have changed, Sirius," Dumbledore said calmly, voice still mild.

"We're still fighting the same war we were yesterday," Sirius snapped back. "What's changed?"

"Everything," Dumbledore said simply, before rising to his feet and drawing his wand. He placed a momentarily unidentifiable object on the table before enlarging it.

It was a pensieve.

"There was a prophecy," Albus started. He had the undivided attention of everyone in the room. "Made by Sibyll Trelawney, a real one, I assure you, over twenty-two years ago in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head Inn. I had gone there to see her for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. However, Sibyll was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself." There were snorts all around the room from everyone who had taken Divination during their time at Hogwarts. "I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

He paused and gestured at the pensieve. "It is time for what was prophesized to be known."

They gathered around, expressions tense as they glanced at one another. And they saw.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

A stunned silence stayed within the room when the slowly revolving Sibyll Trelawney sank back into the silver mass once more, some stumbling back to sit down at the table again.

"So that means-" Ron swallowed. "What does that mean?"

Excluding Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus, grey-faced and silent, mouth a grim slash on their faces, were the only ones who seemed to have understood. But neither spoke, waiting for Dumbledore to explain.

"It means," said Dumbledore, taking a seat again. "That the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, over twenty-two years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

Another long silence followed. Everyone knew who it meant. No one knew what to say.

"It means Harry then?" Surprisingly, it was Neville who broke the silence, eyes somber. "Because, it could've meant me, right?"

Dumbledore surveyed him with approval. "Quite right, Neville. The prophecy currently stored in the Department of Mysteries was relabeled after Tom's attack on Harry as a child. It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill Harry because he knew him to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then it might be Neville?" Ginny piped up, glancing anxiously at said wizard. Neville was frowning heavily. "It might not be Harry?"

"I am afraid," said Dumbledore slowly, looking grave as he swept the room with old eyes. "That there is no doubt that the prophecy means Harry."

"But Neville was born at the end of July as well!" Hermione frowned in confusion. "And, well, his parents-" She broke off, looking awkward. She glanced at Neville again, expression apologetic. Neville shot her a brief smile.

"No," Remus spoke up suddenly, leaning back wearily in his chair. "There's the next part of the prophecy to consider. 'The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal'; Voldemort marked Harry, no doubt about that. Harry's hated that scar ever since he found out about the Wizarding World. He's going to hate it even more now."

"Remus is correct; Tom chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," Dumbledore smiled slightly. "And it is somewhat interesting to note: he chose, not the pureblood, which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing, but the half-blood, like himself. I believe Tom saw at least a little of himself in Harry, and so marked him with the scar."

"But why did he try to kill Potter in the first place?" Moody was eyeing the Headmaster in the corner, expression shrewd. "The prophecy was made to you; how did he find out?"

Dumbledore tilted his head thoughtfully. "We had an eavesdropper," He revealed. Mad-Eye snorted. "Fortunately, he was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

"You threw the informant from the building?" Remus asked in disbelief. "That's it? You didn't, oh I don't know, detain him? How is that fortunate? James and Lily were killed!"

Dumbledore sighed, looking his age. "Another mistake on my part, but I had to hear the rest of the prophecy and could not give chase."

Remus shook his head in disgust. "Who was this informant then?"

"It was Snivellus, wasn't it?" Sirius cut in tersely. He had been so uncharacteristically quiet up until this point that a few people started when he spoke. "And he somehow gave you a reason for you to trust that he isn't going to go crawling back to Voldemort. That's why you had a spy ready to rejoin Voldemort's ranks once he came back."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, Sirius. Nicely thought out."

Sirius nodded, once, and then rose to his feet in one smooth, cat-like movement.

Remus' eyes widened in alarm. "Sirius..."

Sirius waved a hand, gaze not wavering from Dumbledore's. "Don't worry, Moony, I'm not going after Snivellus or something. I just have a few questions."

Dumbledore nodded graciously. "By all means, Sirius."

Sirius' eyes were cold when he smiled. "Well, first of all, just to be absolutely clear, only Harry can off Voldemort for good, yeah? In the end, one of them's got to kill the other one?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "That is correct."

Sirius blinked. The entire room's attention was glued on their exchange. "Second, this is the reason you're pulling the British Aurors back? Because you've got some sort of other plan ready on the side, with this prophecy at its center?"

Dumbledore nodded again. "As I said, we will need all the help we can get once Tom focuses on Harry again."

Sirius took a deep breath. Everyone was aware of the steadily dropping temperature in the kitchen. "Last thing then; you're planning to put Harry, since he's part of this prophecy, straight into the war? Teach him whatever needs to be taught, give him a pat on the head, and let him trot off to defeat Voldemort like a good little hero?"

The faintest of frowns etched itself onto Dumbledore's brow. "Sirius-"

"Yes, or no, Dumbledore?" Sirius' voice was deadly calm.

There was a slight pause before Dumbledore nodded once more. "It isn't quite like how you say it, Sirius, but I suppose the gist of the idea is correct."

Sirius blinked again. "Alright then, I understand."

Remus stared dubiously at his best friend. "You do?"

"You _do_?" George squawked angrily at the same time from the other side of the room.

"Do you?" Dumbledore looked surprised, but pleasantly so if still a fairly cautious. It didn't last.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded almost cordially. "I understand perfectly."

A heartbeat later, he had drawn his wand, sparking tip pointed directly at Dumbledore's startled face. He looked every inch the psychotic murderer he had once been accused of being.

"_Sirius_!" Remus leapt to his feet and lunged for Sirius' wand arm.

"Let go, Moony!" Sirius snarled, eyes wild with barely suppressed rage. "How dare you! You, sitting there, to my face, in my house, about _my godson_-!"

"Sirius," Dumbledore started in a tone that only served to make Sirius angrier. "Be reasonable. It is for the greater good."

Sirius exploded. "FOR THE BLOODY GREATER GOOD? YOU WANT TO SEND HARRY OUT TO WAR AFTER LOCKING HIM UP IN PRISON! HE HASN'T BEEN IN THIS WAR FOR SEVEN YEARS! WHAT HAVE _WE_ BEEN DOING ALL THIS TIME? YOU THINK WE'VE ALL BEEN FIGHTING JUST FOR KICKS? HARRY SHOULDN'T HAVE TO FIGHT! THE VERY IDEA SHOULDN'T HAVE EVEN CROSSED YOUR ADDLED MIND, DUMBLEDORE! AND IF YOU THINK, FOR EVEN ONE BLOODY MOMENT, THAT I'D LET YOU LEAD MY GODSON TO HIS DEATH, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!"

The tirade continued, loud and uninterrupted as Sirius strained against Remus' iron hold. No one seemed at all inclined to stop the animagus either, watching quietly on the side.

"You two," Fred and George glanced behind them as Bill placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Go upstairs and warn Harry, just in case Albus manages to talk his way into a conversation with him."

The twins shot him a measured look before shrugging and slipping out of the room.

Harry had already opened his bedroom door by the time the twins reached the second landing. He offered a faint, half-hearted smile as he leaned heavily against the doorframe.

"Heard everything then?" Fred asked lightly.

"Loud and clear," Harry handed back the Extendable Ears they had given him earlier that morning. "Very useful."

George grinned. "Thanks; we think so too."

"So are you going to pretend to be sleeping?" Fred questioned, glancing back down the stairs. "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore will get hexed six ways to Sunday before Sirius lets him put one foot on the stairs."

Harry's jaw tightened a little. "I can handle Dumbledore."

"We don't doubt that, mate," George reassured him.

"But it's you they're talking about down there," Fred explained. "And Sirius and Dumbledore have never, well they've never seen eye to eye."

Harry glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

Fred shrugged. "They've just never gotten along. I mean, they're not always arguing or anything, but Sirius isn't always happy about Dumbledore's decisions either. Before Sirius was cleared, Dumbledore ordered him to stay here. Grimmauld Place is Sirius' old home, you see, and he hated it here, but he lent the house to Dumbledore as Order Headquarters, and he was stuck here for a year before old Fudge saw sense and Dumbledore managed to convince him to let Sirius confess on Veritaserum. Madame Bones cleared him within an hour."

"So Wormtail..." Harry trailed off questioningly.

George shook his head. "Still at large. Then again, it is pretty hard to find one rat in all of Britain. He doesn't fight much, or at least we haven't really seen him on a raid. We think You-Know-Who has him doing most of the underground spy work."

"Anyway," Fred gestured behind him. "What will you do?"

Harry pushed off the doorframe and started unsteadily for the stairs. "Might as well... get this over with. I have a feeling Dumbledore's... not going to give up on... talking to me."

The stairs were difficult to handle and Fred and George each had to reach out to steady Harry twice as they descended.

As soon as they bypassed the privacy wards, Sirius' voice came back full volume and Harry instantly flinched away.

"Sirius, quiet down!" George shouted, catching Harry's elbow.

Sirius did a double-take when he caught sight of Harry and he fell silent at once, mouth clicking close so fast George suspected the man had bitten his tongue. He looked pained all of a sudden but he didn't lower his wand from Dumbldore's face, choosing instead to shift a little to the side so that he was standing somewhat between Harry and the Headmaster.

Everyone pretended not to notice.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore started brightly, eyes twinkling again. He seemed perfectly content to ignore the wand pointed at his head. "How are you feeling?"

Harry stared back blankly. "Alright."

"Excellent," Dumbledore beamed, before bowing his head a little. "Harry, you must believe me when I say I am truly sorry for what you have been through. I should have known you to be incapable of such acts, but alas, old age sometimes impairs judgment, even in one such as myself." Sharp blue eyes stared mournfully back at him. "Please, forgive this old man his grave error. I shall endeavor to apologize in any way I can."

Harry studied the Headmaster, the steadily bubbling anger in the pit of his stomach somehow felt detached from his thought process. Across the room, the blue-green hair of the dark-eyed woman suddenly turned a violent red. If Harry hadn't been so distracted with Dumbledore, he probably would've asked about it.

"I don't want your... apology," Harry said at last, gently removing his elbow from George's grasp. "An apology's not going to... give me back... seven years."

The room in general seemed to wince. Harry ignored it.

"I just want to... know what's going on," He held back a grimace of annoyance when his words still wouldn't come out smoothly.

Dumbledore looked sadly at him. "As you wish, my boy. Perhaps we could journey to the-"

"Whatever you have to say can be said here," Sirius snarled, his grip on his wand tightening.

"I can... decide who to talk to... where I want, thanks," Harry said coolly.

Sirius' shoulders sagged a little. "I- Of course, Harry."

Dumbledore smiled a little and Harry instantly threw in his lot. As angry as he was with Sirius, if it came to choosing between him and Dumbledore, he'd pick his godfather any day.

"But I don't see a... problem with talking here," Harry watched the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes fade a little. "Everyone... already knows. Here should be fine."

Dumbledore hesitated only for a heartbeat before continuing genially, "If you're more comfortable here, then certainly." His eyes twinkled brightly. "I can assume you have already heard everything?"

Harry glanced at the twins. They both shrugged, unconcerned.

"Yes," He nodded, turning back.

"Then we can skip over that. What do you know of the war at the moment, Harry?"

"It's pretty bad; countries... falling and everything," Harry motioned at the twins. "Fred and George told me."

"Indeed," Dumbledore stroked his beard, gaze intent. "We are steadily losing ground. For Voldemort to be truly defeated once and for all, the Prophecy must come to pass."

Harry's mouth twisted a little. "Professor, you do... realize that while I am twenty-two years old, my... magical abilities are still the... same as when I was fifteen."

"Not a problem, Harry," Dumbledore looked delighted that Harry didn't seem completely against him. "I would be glad to take you on as an apprentice when you are feeling better."

Sirius couldn't stay silent any longer, snarling something unintelligible before hissing, "He's not going to be anything of the sort!"

"Sirius, I can... speak for myself," Harry struggled to keep his voice strong. He was already getting tired.

Sirius turned sharply to face him, a little of the desperation he was feeling seeping into his features. "Harry, you don't have to do this. Do you understand? Just turn him-"

"Sirius, shut up," Harry said flatly.

Sirius shut up, looking like he had been slapped.

Harry didn't spare him another glance. He turned back to Dumbledore. He said nothing for a long while.

"Is Europe under... quarantine?" He asked abruptly.

If Dumbledore was surprised, he didn't show it. "Yes; for the most part, the international floo has been cut off. We can only travel to our ally countries within Europe."

Harry contemplated this for a moment before speaking again. "When you say that... countries have fallen, what exactly does that mean? Is the entire country under Voldemort's... control? Wizards and Muggles?"

"Ah, good question," Dumbledore nodded as if Harry had done something well in class. "Only the magical community in each country is completely under Tom's rule. Muggles, you see, are not entirely helpless, even without magic. I am sure you know of their bombs and other weapons. For the most part, Tom's stayed away from them. He's concentrating on conquering the Wizarding World first, and will most likely attack the Muggles afterwards, wiping them out in one fell swoop."

"They've noticed though," Moody growled from his seat. Harry glanced at him. "Hard not to in these times. The Obliviator Headquarters has been working around the clock, and the Muggle Liaison Office has their work cut out for them trying to keep the Muggle Prime Minister from panicking," He paused, and then amended, "Too badly."

Harry nodded. He had always appreciated Moody's candid honesty. If the man couldn't tell him something, he would simply say so. Harry thought, or at least hoped, that this meant that Moody had some respect for him. The things Moody had taught him about the Ministry and the Wizarding World in general when Harry had visited him in the Hospital Wing at the end of his fourth year had been interesting. He tried not to dwell too much on the fact that Moody had taken Dumbledore's side as well. After all, Moody was retired. It wasn't as if he could've done anything either way.

"So what do you say, my boy?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry shot him a considering look before his expression hardened. "No."

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "'No'? Harry, I'm not sure you understand-"

"I understand quite well," Harry cut off, pushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He would have to either cut it or tie it back. "My answer is 'no'."

Dumbledore was silent for a long minute. Sirius had a very satisfied expression on his face, wand lowering to his side. He didn't put it away.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Dumbledore started again softly, meeting his eyes. "Think of the Wizarding World. It will be doomed. Can you, with a clear conscience, let all those people-"

"Albus, that's enough," Mr. Weasley spoke for the first time the meeting had started. "What are you saying? That the lives of the Wizarding World are all Harry's responsibility? There may be a prophecy but that doesn't necessarily mean it must be fulfilled, and it definitely does not mean what you are implying!"

Dumbledore appeared not to have heard, blue gaze still drilling into Harry. It happened very quickly.

One moment, Harry was frowning back, the next, he felt a blast of pain against the barrier he had created long ago in his mind to ward off some of the Dementors' effect. He couldn't hold back a cry as he reeled back, clapping his hands to his head even as the presence hastily withdrew.

There was a bang and raised voices shouting all around him. Someone had caught him as he fell, lowering him to the ground with care as he gritted his teeth against the pounding in his head.

When he could finally focus again, Harry found Fred crouched beside him, looking angry and worried at the same time, and he saw Sirius standing in front of him, wand raised and shouting again.

"-OUT! NOW, ALBUS! YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF I TURN THE BLACK WARDS AGAINST YOU WHILE YOU'RE STILL INSIDE!"

Harry blinked past the last of the pain, catching sight of Dumbledore holding a hand to his nose. It seemed Sirius had foregone his wand and simply punched him.

Blinking again, he found every wand in the room drawn and pointed, all aimed directly at the Headmaster.

For his part, Dumbledore was staring at him with a calculating gleam in his eyes. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "Harry, I did not know you were proficient in Occlumency. I apol-"

Sirius' voice rode over his. "I, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, hereby dis-"

He didn't get any further as Dumbledore nodded swiftly and headed for the door. The Order parted before him, wands still pointed. It didn't take a genius to realize something integral had broken within the Order.

Moody stumped out after Dumbledore and Harry thought he heard the beginnings of a whispered argument before the privacy wards cut them off.

"Harry, are you alright?" Fred was peering anxiously at him, the flush of anger still high in his cheeks.

Harry nodded but didn't say anything. What had Dumbledore been trying to attempt? It was obvious he hadn't been expecting such a reaction, and what was Occlumency anyway? Did the Headmaster mean the shield in Harry's mind? And if so, what had it stopped Dumbledore from doing? Reading his mind? There was no need for that.

Influencing his thoughts then?

"Harry?" Sirius' tentative voice cut through his silent debate. "Are you- Are you okay?"

Harry looked around. Everyone was staring at him.

He wanted to throw up.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry took a deep breath and then tried to heave himself to his feet. Fred was instantly helping him, easing him back upright as Harry tried to blink the spots from his sight.

"'m fine," Harry mumbled. "I want- Can I-"

His mind was too muddled and he struggled for the right words. Had talking always been this hard?

Fred seemed to know what he meant because he began herding Harry towards the door. "Let's get you back upstairs, Harry. Come on. You just need some sleep, that's all."

George slipped to his other side a second later, pocketing his wand as he helped Harry up the stairs.

Harry barely noticed any of this, only feeling a profound sense of relief when a soft bed appeared underneath him and darkness pulled him under.

**r.R.r**

"What. The. Bloody Hell. Was. That."

Mad-Eye glared furiously at Albus as the Headmaster sat down heavily behind his desk, fixing his nose with a wave of his wand. Mad-Eye had to fight down the urge to break it again.

"I had to try, Alastor," Albus started.

Mad-Eye snarled. "'Try'? What you did was illegal! Even if Potter didn't know Occlumency, _coercing_ someone to do something is _illegal_!" He shook his head. "What happened to you, Albus?"

"We are fighting a losing battle, Alastor," Albus' voice was adamant. "Harry going along with my plan is crucial to defeating Tom."

"Potter should have a choice," Mad-Eye spat out. "Guilt-tripping him into a decision is wrong."

"I know what I am doing seems... cruel, Alastor, but I am doing all this for the greater good."

"Funny how your greater good destroys the lesser people sooner or later," Mad-Eye shot back.

Albus frowned. "Now, Alastor, that's a very harsh accusation. Harry would be seen as a hero, and he would certainly have earned it."

"And his innocence, Albus?" Mad-Eye questioned sharply. "What's left of it anyway? We owe that boy, that man, far more than money and petty apologies, yet you sit there, planning to throw him straight back onto the battlefield."

"I would have thought you, of all people, would understand," Albus said, voice becoming more steel-like. "Harry may have stopped his magical education at fifteen but his potential-"

"I'm not talking about Potter's potential," Mad-Eye snapped irritably. "I'll be the first to admit that he could become a powerful wizard, but what if he doesn't want to? It would be a shame to lose magic such as his, but I would never press him until we've dried up all our other resources. He's right; for all that he is twenty-two, he is still, in part, fifteen. He should have a choice."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Then I am afraid we have a difference of opinion, Alastor," Albus said, twinkle nowhere in sight and voice hard. "Harry must fulfill the Prophecy. He is no longer a child; he cannot shrink from duty."

Mad-Eye stared, disbelief and fury warring in his mind.

"You've changed, Albus," He said at last, voice a quiet growl. His magical eye spun to the empty space that had once held Fawkes' perch. "I should've seen it when that phoenix first disappeared."

And without another word, the retired Auror turned, limping to the fireplace. A moment later, he had disappeared in a rush of green flames, leaving Albus to his thoughts.

* * *

**Seventh chapter done! Bit longer this time, but there was a lot of Dumbledore. Hope his characterization was alright.**

**Review, review, review!**


	8. Time to Leave

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed a bit of Dumbledore bashing and some of you made an extra comment about Mad-Eye too. Hope his characterization was alright. Most of the fics I've read has him as the paranoid ex-Auror and doesn't get much deeper into his character.**

**Note 2: The 'power the Dark Lord knows not' obviously can't simply be love again. I won't say anything here; it'll be revealed as the fic moves on.**

**Note 3: I have plans for Fawkes; he'll be coming up soon!**

**Note 4: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Time to Leave**

_The only certain freedom's in departure.  
-Robert Frost_

* * *

**-August 2****nd****, 2002-**

A knock at the door made Harry look up. He was still tired from Dumbledore's earlier visit and had only woken up a few hours ago.

Someone cleared their throat before speaking. "Er, Harry? It's Bill. I have your dinner. Is it alright if I come in for a bit?"

Harry blinked. So Bill was the first to risk coming back. He wasn't sure what the eldest Weasley had had to do to get the twins to let him come up. They had been doing a good job of fending everyone off since Harry had woken up.

He thought for a moment. It wasn't as if he and Bill had ever been that close. Two-thirds of a summer and a handful of days during his fourth year didn't really count. He supposed it was alright.

"Yeah, sure," He called back, struggling into a sitting position.

The door swung open and Bill hesitantly shuffled in, a tray of food in hand. Harry stayed silent as Bill set the tray on the bedside table before hovering awkwardly next to it. There were two bowls of soup on it.

Harry sighed and glanced up at the older wizard. "Well? Aren't you going to... sit down?"

Bill hastily took a seat, and Harry was struck by how uncertain the eldest Weasley son currently looked. He had seen Ron more awkward than a newborn foal; Ginny blushing and stammering like no tomorrow; the twins looking faintly embarrassed after Harry had pranked them back (the entire revenge had involved the House Elves, sprouting feathers everywhere, a tricky bit of magic that made them squawk every time they wanted to say something, and losing everything but their boxers _before_ the feathers kicked in in front of the entire Great Hall. Harry had been kind enough to make the prank last for only a day, but they had never pranked him again after that.) for dying his hair permanently hot pink for a week; Percy turning red whenever he was pranked or teased by the twins (which was a lot) or when his job was ridiculed; and even Charlie had been distinctly red in the face when Harry had managed to pull off the Wronski Feint his first time but Charlie had missed the pull-up point by about a foot. It had taken him two more tries before he had managed a perfect dive from Harry's starting height of eighty feet. Charlie had huffed about it but had declared that he had expected nothing less from someone who had out-flown a dragon.

But Bill had always been calm and cool, easygoing and never really bothered. He laughed when the twins managed to prank him, took his share of teasing with good grace, and he was in a league of his own when it came to curse-breaking. His mild nature and quiet confidence warded off anyone who wanted to insult him, but he looked almost afraid now.

Harry didn't say anything though, only reaching over to fumble for the bowl and spoon. Bill did the same after a moment, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence as each started on his meal.

By the time they finished, Harry was regretting his decision to invite Bill to sit with him, even though he had needed the older man's help to pick up the napkin he had dropped on the floor when his right hand stopped working for a second (he was sure he could've managed to pick it up himself, but that was certain to take several extra minutes).

Dinner finished and empty bowls and utensils returned to the tray, Bill rose and made to leave, only to hesitate, hands clenching momentarily around the edge of the tray he was about to pick up.

Harry's mouth turned down and he lowered his gaze to his lap. He almost jumped out of his skin when a gentle hand touched his shoulder, head snapping up to meet Bill's gaze. The blue eyes staring back at him were very determined.

"For what it's worth, Harry," Bill started, voice soft. "I am sorry."

Harry scoffed a little, more tired than anything. He just wanted to be left alone; was that too much to ask? "It wasn't as if you... really knew me."

"I knew you well enough," Bill told him simply, before removing a small package wrapped in brown paper from his pocket and replacing the tray with it. A tap of his wand enlarged it.

"It's a bit late," Bill offered a strained smile as he stepped away from Harry's bed. "But if you get bored in here, well, I did make a promise."

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Harry didn't move for a while, plucking absently at his blanket, but his gaze eventually slid over to the package, curiosity getting the better of him. What promise was Bill talking about?

Hesitantly, he reached out for the parcel, dragging it onto his lap before unwrapping it. His hands stilled.

_Next time I see you, I'll give you all the books I started off with. Once you're done with those, I'll show you the more advanced stuff. It's even more interesting since you can be more creative about it._

Harry's first instinct was to smile, forgetting, for a moment, all the years in between as his mind took him back to the hours he had pestered out of Bill during the few days before the Third Task.

Bill had looked like Christmas had come early when Harry showed more than polite interest in his job, dragging him off to a secluded area of the school to demonstrate the warding he had to do for Gringotts. His enthusiasm had been catching and Harry had found himself peering over the older wizard's shoulder as Bill wrote out some of the calculations needed to ward your average house.

To both their surprise, Harry had taken to this technical aspect like a fish to water, quickly taking down measurements and calculating the number of ward layers necessary for different parts of the sample house Bill had drawn up.

Bill had stared for a good five seconds before he had demanded to know why Harry didn't take Arithmancy. Harry had thought about it and hadn't been able to come up with anything more than because Ron hadn't taken it. Arithmancy was pretty much the Wizard equivalent of mathematics and Harry had always been good at math.

Bill had snorted and promptly dragged him off to see McGonagall, where he had then proceeded to explain Harry's talent for warding and, by extension, curse-breaking to a startled Head of House. It had taken a bit of time and a lot of shameless wheedling on Bill's part but by the end of that day, Harry had dropped Divination and replaced it with Arithmancy. Bill had tried to convince him to drop Care of Magical Creatures for Ancient Runes as well but Harry hadn't wanted to desert Hagrid. The Curse-Breaker had finally relented, but not before getting a half-amused, half-exasperated McGonagall's word that she would switch Harry to Ancient Runes if Bill managed to change his mind over the summer.

Bill had spent the next few days, when Harry hadn't been in class, teaching him different curse-breaking techniques and drawing up more houses for Harry to ward on parchment. It had also served as a distraction for Harry as the Third Task loomed closer, and he had found himself having quite a lot of fun.

Blinking back into the present, Harry frowned deeply at the books in his lap. He should give them back, he really should. He glanced at the first and second titles and then did a double-take when he saw the third.

The first was 'Wards on Your Average Home: Theory and Practice' and the second was 'Leave Your House Protected', but the third was 'Wards to Keep Your Household Hidden'.

Was that a beginner's book? Bill had once mentioned that hiding a house was harder than simply placing defenses around it.

He pulled out the last two. 'Warding Against Enemies' and 'Protective Curses' definitely didn't sound basic.

So, had Bill guessed then, about what Harry had been debating with himself since he had woken up?

He fingered the books. They would be useful, no doubt about that. If he wanted to leave Grimmauld Place and find his own place to live in, he'd need protection. Well, first he'd have to get a wand, and then learn how, but getting out of this house would be a chore and a half anyway.

Harry glanced at the clock hanging on the far wall. He had been thinking for hours but he couldn't see any way around it. He would have to leave, soon, before Dumbledore returned or tried to get Harry to go to him. He wasn't sure if Sirius could prevent Dumbledore from entering forever and he sure didn't want to test it.

But where could he go? He didn't know anyone who would offer him housing, especially in the state he was in. And it was laughable to try to run off on his own now. He had nothing save the clothes on his back, no money, and not a single clue as to how to get... well, anywhere.

He could ask the twins but he doubted they'd have space. They had told him that they lived above their joke shop, didn't they? And they had already done far more for him than he had ever expected.

Harry heaved a sigh before flipping open the first book. He'd keep them. They would be helpful in the long run, and he was bored.

The text had been charmed to summarize what he was reading, and it took him a moment to recognize Bill's handwriting. The older wizard had meticulously gone through each book and had written his own tips inside. Harry supposed this, at least, deserved a thank-you.

**r.R.r**

"He let you go in?" Charlie met Bill at the bottom of the stairs, accosting him before he left the last step.

"Yeah," Bill shifted the tray into one hand and glanced back up the stairs. "It went okay, I suppose. He didn't shout at me, at least."

"He didn't tell you to leave," Charlie pointed out almost enviously. "That's already better than anyone else."

Bill shrugged and moved into the kitchen. "I think he just wanted his food."

Charlie snorted but didn't push. "What about the books?"

"What books?" Molly asked as she took the tray from Bill. The rest of the kitchen's occupants stared with open interest.

Bill shrugged and got himself a glass of water. "Books about warding."

Ron groaned a little. "Come on, Bill! No offence, but couldn't you have at least gotten him something more interesting?"

Bill flashed him an annoyed look. "Harry likes warding."

Ron frowned. "Since when?"

Bill took a sip of water. "Since his fourth year."

"I repeat, since when?"

"Since that week mum and I went up to stay at Hogwarts for a bit before the Third Task." Bill placed his glass in the sink before turning a frown on his youngest brother. "And I've always wanted to ask; why in Merlin's name did you decide to take Divination back in Hogwarts?"

Ron turned a little red. "Er, well, I didn't really know what to take so I ended up picking the two that seemed easiest."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Molly shot a stern look at him while Bill continued looking irritated. "Well, that was a waste of time. You could've taken Arithmancy instead."

Ron made a face. "I looked at Hermione's textbook during third year; no thanks."

"Arithmancy is a very interesting branch of study, Ron," Hermione scolded.

"And Harry's brilliant at it," Bill added. Everyone turned back to blink at him in surprise.

"You mentioned that Harry was interested in curse-breaking, Bill," Arthur remembered.

Bill nodded, smiling. "I got McGonagall to drop Harry's Divination class and replace it with Arithmancy. She tested him on the third year material and ended up placing him in fourth year Arithmancy by the end of the day. She lent him the fourth year textbook and told him that she would test him again at the beginning of his fifth year to see if he could skip another year by then." His smile faltered. "Of course, that never happened in the end."

The room was plunged into muted gloom again. Only Fred and George were speaking, whispering to each other in secretive tones in a corner of the kitchen. Most were too far away to hear what they were saying, and no one seemed too interested in what they were plotting this time.

"Alright," Tonks spoke up, breaking the silence. Her hair had turned a defiant shade of burnished orange. "We're all thinking it, so I'll say it. I think Dumbledore's finally gone off the deep end, and I mean completely insane. The prophecy may be real, but that doesn't give him any right to try to influence Harry. And in front of all of us too!"

"Tonks is absolutely right," Molly huffed as she bustled around the kitchen. "The nerve of that man; directly attacking someone like that is outrageous!"

Ron stared dubiously at his mother. "Mum, aren't you always on Dumbledore's side?"

Molly pinned him with a glare fierce enough to make him shrink back. "Not when he is wrong, Ronald!" Her glare lessened. "I admit, I have often agreed with Albus out of faith alone, but after what happened to Harry..."

She trailed off, lips pressing together as she turned back to the cupboards, putting away mugs and bowls.

"But what happens now?" Neville asked, glancing around the room. "After today, what happens with the Order?"

"He's not coming back here," Sirius broke in flatly, grey eyes glittering. "And if he tries, the Black wards will stop him. Painfully. My family doesn't do anything by halves."

Arthur sighed deeply. "Not that I don't agree but it will be a great blow for us, especially now. We're in the middle of a war and the Order can barely stay together."

No one could think of anything to say to this. It was reality.

"What did you say to Dumbledore anyway, Mad-Eye?" Tonks turned to her former mentor. Even Fred and George looked up at this.

Mad-Eye shrugged. "We exchanged words," He growled. "It seems we have a difference of opinion when it comes to Potter. I doubt he'll change his stance in the near future. He wants Potter to go along with his plan. One failure isn't going to make him see sense."

"Great," Charlie muttered, dropping heavily into a chair. "So Dumbledore's against us. Just what we need."

As the room fell into uneasy silence again, Bill glanced over at Percy, who had been very quiet so far. His brother was frowning, straddling the chair he was sitting in as he leaned forward against the back of the seat.

"Why so quiet, Perce?" Bill sat down beside him.

Percy glanced sideways at him. "What books did you give Harry?"

Bill's eyes briefly flickered away. "Didn't you hear? Books on warding."

Percy turned his head to fully look at him. Of all the Weasley children, Percy always acted the most distant, which was why Bill sometimes forgot just how perceptive his brother could be. It probably didn't help that Percy was currently sitting closest to the twins, and while he gave every sign of not listening, it didn't necessarily mean he wasn't.

But Percy didn't press, only surveying Bill with slightly tired knowing eyes before murmuring under his breath, "Mother won't like it."

Bill shrugged a little. "He can't stay here," He mumbled back just as softly. "He doesn't want to either."

Percy nodded once and that was that. They both knew full well that Harry Potter would be gone by morning.

**r.R.r**

"You want me to do what?"

Blue eyes twinkled merrily. "I would like you to bring Harry here. Hogwarts was his first home, and I daresay he will find recovering here to be much more comfortable."

On the outside, Severus gazed back at the Headmaster indifferently. On the inside, his mind was racing to find the appropriate words to answer this odd request.

'_Damn it, Albus! I don't want any part in your plans for Potter!'_

"I'm a spy, Albus, not Potter's babysitter," Severus finally said with a slight sneer. "Get someone else to run after him. If you want Potter here so much then ask him yourself."

"Ah," Albus clasped his hands in front of him as his expression became regretful. "I am afraid Sirius and I had a slight misunderstanding. It would be best if I stayed away for a while until he cools down."

Severus was immediately suspicious. The mutt had become frustrated with the Headmaster numerous times in the past, yet Albus had never stayed away. Grimmauld Place was Headquarters after all. What had happened?

"And you believe Black will simply hand his godson over?" He asked silkily. "And to me?"

"I'm sure you'll manage, Severus," Albus waved a dismissive hand. "Be resourceful. Sirius will agree that this move is for the best once he sees how much quicker Harry heals at Hogwarts."

Severus stared for a long disbelieving moment. "You want me to _kidnap_ him?"

"It is not kidnapping, Severus," Albus denied sternly. "We are simply doing what is best for Harry."

Severus couldn't bring himself to speak. He wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth at this point.

"Severus," Albus' voice gentled as he leaned forward. "This must be done, for Harry's own good and for the rest of the Wizarding World. He will heal much better if I help him along, and I can keep a closer eye on him here at Hogwarts." He paused for a second before continuing, "Lily would want his son in the best hands."

Severus stilled, keeping his features blank. Well, Albus was right about one thing; Lily would want her son to be as safe as possible, no matter where he had to be moved.

He made up his mind.

"Very well," He inclined his head. "I will go to Headquarters later tonight. Potter still needs his potions after all."

Albus beamed. "Excellent. Thank you, Severus."

Severus nodded once more, stiffly, and then turned on his heel and left the office without a backward glance.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-August 3****rd****, 2002-**

"Rise and shine, Harry,"

Harry jerked a little at the sudden whisper. He had just been drifting off and hadn't noticed the door opening.

"George?" Harry followed the twin's trek across the room and blinked down at the thick robes suddenly laid out in front of him. "What's going on?"

"We're getting out of here of course," George pulled back Harry's blankets. "Come on. Fred's downstairs getting our stuff together."

"What- Where-" Harry slid clumsily out of bed, shivering. His was always cold now but the blankets helped a little.

"Fred and I are moving you to our joke shop," There wasn't a trace of laughter on George's face at the moment. "After today's episode, or yesterday I suppose, I doubt you want to wait around for Dumbledore to try something else."

Harry had a hard time not gaping as George helped him pull on the black robes. They hung loosely off his thin frame.

"Wait, George, I couldn't-"

George didn't let him finish. "None of that now, Harry," He whipped out an empty duffel bag and swept the books on the bedside table into it. After a second's consideration, he grabbed the wrapping paper and stuffed it into the bag as well. "Unless you don't _want_ to come with us, I don't want to hear any protests."

Harry said nothing as George stoppered the Pepper-up, Calming Draught, and Dreamless Sleep that Harry hadn't touched, wrapped them in a piece of cloth and dumped them into the duffel bag as well.

"You're serious?" Harry finally asked.

George inspected him carefully, pausing to look him in the eye. "Do I look like I'm joking, Harry?"

Harry frowned, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Dumbledore-"

"Harry," George smiled grimly at him, no humour touching his expression. "Dumbledore and his bloody greater good can take a long walk off a short bridge. He had absolutely no right even _asking_ you to go along with his plans, much less force you into them! Now are you coming or not?" He seemed to mull over his words for a moment. "Scratch that; if you don't want to come, we're taking you out of here anyway."

Harry hesitated for a heartbeat longer before dipping his head in acquiescence. "Thanks, George."

George waved a hand and helped him to the door. "Don't thank me yet. Now be very quiet. Everyone's asleep, but there's a portrait of Sirius' mum downstairs and she starts screaming insults if someone makes a bit of noise. Tonks is always tripping over things and disturbing it. No one can remove it either because of the Permanent Sticking Charm."

"Tonks?" Harry paused at the top of the stairs before starting his descent, one hand clutching the banister.

"Nymphadora Tonks, hates being called Nymphadora, Auror, Order member, Mad-Eye's old protégée, and a metamorphmagus. You've seen her. She's the woman who can change her hair-colour at will. Or eye-colour or any facial feature really. That's what a metamorphmagus is."

Harry recalled the young woman with the heart-shaped face and a mischievous air about her. He lingered at the bottom of the stairs, slightly out of breath, before letting George lead him through a hall and to the front door.

Fred was already there, two more duffel bags at his feet and two broomsticks in hand.

"Hello, Harry," Fred greeted. "There are anti-Apparition wards all around the Black property, extends all the way down the street, and we don't want to risk you by doing side-along. We'd go by floo but that's risky too, and so are portkeys, so we're going by air. A short flight, so we should be alright. You'll be going with George."

Harry felt somewhat embarrassed. He hadn't ever needed help flying, but he'd probably fall off if he tried now. He nodded and Fred quickly pulled out his wand to shrink the three duffel bags.

"Alright then," George grabbed a broom and motioned for Harry to follow. "Let's go-"

He stopped abruptly when the quiet whoosh of flames sounded from the sitting room. Before any of them had time to do more than wheel around to face the direction of the sound, the familiar figure of Severus Snape appeared in the hall, brushing soot from his robes.

If they had been in any other situation, the brief dumbstruck look on Snape's face when he looked up and caught sight of them would've been hilarious.

For a long minute, the four of them simply stared at one another, obviously unsure of the other party's immediate intentions.

At last, Snape released a near-silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. Opening them again, he strode forward, strides sure. The three younger wizards tensed but the Potions Master simply walked right by, heading for the kitchen. He paused just before disappearing around a corner, not bothering to turn around.

"I am going to make myself a cup of tea, the Muggle way," Snape's voice was pitched low with apathy. "It will take half an hour at most. I will then proceed to do my recently-assigned job of playing caregiver to Potter, upon which I will discover his disappearance and allow the rest of this madhouse to exclaim over the disappearance of their precious Boy-Who-Lived. Anything that occurs after that is none of my concern."

With that said, Snape moved out of sight, robes flapping behind him, barely visible within the shadows of the house.

"That went well," Fred commented after a stunned silence. George nodded in agreement before pulling open the front door.

Harry glanced back in the direction of the kitchen before following the twins out the door. "He won't say anything?"

Fred shrugged. "Probably not. I mean, if he's planning on ratting on us, I doubt he'd go to the trouble of not stopping us now. He's giving us half an hour. That's enough time to settle you in."

The ten-minute flight had Harry shaking uncontrollably with cold by the end of the journey. They landed in front of a darkened building and Fred rushed inside, coming back in moments with a blanket that they quickly wrapped around him before ushering him indoors.

A wave of George's wand lit the fireplace as they reached the second landing and Harry was ushered into a bathroom.

"I-It's th-the m-middle of s-summer," Harry stuttered out through chattering teeth.

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to be moving anywhere far much less flying in the middle of the night," George helped him out of his shirt. "Maybe Apparating would've been better after all."

Harry appreciated their help but he drew the line at being given a bath. The twins left him alone quickly enough, leaving him a change of clothes before explaining the next several hours through the door.

"Fred and I will have to head back to Grimmauld Place now," George called out. "We'll come back as fast as we can; lunch at the latest."

Harry muffled a cough. "Alright. I'll be fine here. Thank you, George, Fred."

"No problem, Harry," Fred dismissed. "Bedroom's just down the hall. Take one of the beds. We better not come back and find you on the floor."

"Or drowning in the bath," George added, sounding slightly anxious. "Are you sure you can manage?"

Harry ran a hand through his wet hair, ignoring his growing headache in favour of scowling. "I'm sure. I'm not... completely helpless. Go."

The twins sighed but agreed without further protest.

Harry was soon alone again and he allowed himself to slump a little against one wall. He was ridiculously exhausted. How long would it take for him to get better?

At the rate he was going, he thought rather morbidly. Probably never.

* * *

**Eighth chapter done! Review, review, review!**


	9. Still Lost But More Free

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying my characterization of everyone!**

**Note 2: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Still Lost But More Free**

_Don't matter how much money you got, there's only two kinds of people: there's saved people and there's lost people.  
-Bob Dylan_

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**-August 3****rd****, 2002-**

"WHERE IS HE?"

"How would I know, Black? Get your hands off me!"

"-FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS-"

"ALBUS SENT YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Several loud bangs echoed around the chaotic house until relative silence fell again. Downstairs, Walburga Black continued to scream but no one paid her any mind. Remus lowered his wand, face drawn and grim. "Sirius, let go of him. _Now_."

Several seconds ticked by before Sirius finally relinquished his hold on Snape's robes, a dark glare fixed on his face.

Severus, are you sure you don't know where Harry is?" Remus asked once Sirius had taken a step back.

Severus sneered, straightening his robes. "I am quite sure, Lupin. I came to give Potter his potions, taking time out of my _sleep_, I might add, as I have done for the past three days. Kidnapping him is more trouble than he's worth."

Sirius snarled. "You came here on Dumbledore's orders. Did he tell you I set the wards against him? Did he tell you what he did?"

Severus only raised an eyebrow. "Whatever Albus did with Potter is hardly my concer-"

"HE TRIED TO USE LEGILIMENCY ON HARRY!" Sirius roared, looking more than a little crazed at this point. "And then he sent you here and now Harry's _gone_! And don't get me started on what you did with the Prophecy! I should set the wards against you right now!"

Severus had steadily become paler and paler until he was the colour of blank parchment. He couldn't seem to come up with any words.

Below them, the portrait continued to shriek. "-FILTH! SCUM! BY-PRODUCTS OF DIRT AND VILENESS!-"

"Sirius, stop it. Now's not the time to talk about the Prophecy," Remus said firmly. He looked around slowly. "Does anyone here know anything about Harry's whereabouts?" His gaze settled on the Weasley twins.

Fred and George didn't look at each other, didn't twitch under Remus' gaze, didn't give any sign that they knew anything more than anyone else.

It didn't matter. Everyone's attention was suddenly focused on them.

"Fred, George," Arthur started softly. "We're only worried about Harry. He's still healing and he can't do that alone."

The twins shrugged in unison.

"If Harry doesn't want to stay here," Fred pointed out. "It's not like any of us have the right to make him stay. Sirius didn't feel any breach in the wards so that means Harry left of his own free will. We can't drag him back."

"We better not drag him back," George added, voice light but eyes narrowed in warning.

Molly jumped in, shrill with worry. "But surely you must realize that it is for Harry's own good that he stays-"

George cut her off, angrier now. "Funny how 'Harry's own good' got him stuck with abusive Muggles for fifteen years," He snapped, ignoring the sudden hush of the crowd. "How '_Harry's own good_' got him framed and thrown into a cell in Azkaban when he was supposed to be safe! He's a legal adult, mum; he can do what he wants! And if he wants out of this house, how can any of us blame him, especially after what happened yesterday?"

Nobody said anything after George fell silent so Fred picked up the conversation. "Well, now that Harry's not here anymore," He gestured between himself and his twin. "There's not much point for the two of us to stay. We'll be going now. Got to get to work."

With that said, the twins headed for the stairs, only to find their path blocked when a desperate-looking Sirius Black slid in front of them.

"Just tell me he's alright," The Marauder pleaded, voice cracking a little. "I won't bother him or anything. I just want to know he's okay."

Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"We don't know where he is," George denied easily.

"Can't tell you what we don't know," Fred agreed.

Neither paid any mind to the defeated expression on their host's face as they ducked around him and continued on their way.

It wasn't until they heard a rush of flames behind Walburga Black's wails that any of them spoke.

"If that's all then," Severus said stiffly, making for the stairs as well.

Surprisingly, Sirius didn't protest. All the fight seemed to have left him now that _Harryisgone_ finally sunk in.

Another rush of flames under the cacophony sent Mad-Eye and Tonks hurrying off to shut the curtain. The house was very quiet when the screaming stopped.

"Let's just go back to bed," Bill sighed, running a hand through slightly messy hair. "It's near four in the morning and we've all got work in a few hours."

"Bill, how could you say that?" Molly questioned fretfully. "Harry needs help! Even- Even if he's with the twins-"

Bill shook his head, amused and tired at the same time. "Mum, it's the twins. After all these years, they're the _only_ ones who could probably say in all honesty that they won't let any harm come to Harry. Leave them be." He turned and headed back to his room, not looking back to see if anyone else complied.

It was Percy who moved next, stifling a yawn as he followed his brother. Charlie sighed, shrugged, and left as well, throwing over his shoulder, "Half of us have to head over to France come morning. We don't want to be falling asleep in the middle of a raid."

Slowly, the crowd dispersed until only Sirius and Remus were left. Both Marauders looked lost, the former more so than the latter.

"Come on, Padfoot," Remus ushered his best friend to the room they shared, pushing him down to sit on one bed before retiring to his own.

"Do you think he's with the twins?" Sirius asked quietly, not making any move to lie down.

Remus stilled briefly in the process of arranging his blankets. "I think," He started slowly. "That Harry is more than capable of finding his own means to take care of himself, so yes, probably."

"But what if he-"

"There's not much we can do about it, Sirius," Remus' smile was sad. "Besides, Harry's had more than enough experience taking care of himself. And you know the twins have warded that joke shop of theirs against every single Order member in Britain. Not even Dumbledore can get in. Remember the last time he tried?"

One corner of Sirius' mouth ticked upwards. "That was the time he tried flooing through, wasn't it? Got thrown out of the grate covered in soot and dyed rainbow all over." His expression became somewhat wistful. "That was a laugh. When Harry was still around, we all had more to laugh about."

Remus laid back on his bed and said nothing. It was true, after all. Harry had never been the most cheerful person or the most optimistic, but simply being around him had made life more interesting.

Across the room, he heard Sirius lie down. He didn't need to listen for evened breathing to know that neither of them would be getting anymore sleep tonight.

**r.R.r**

"He's gone?" There was no twinkle in Albus Dumbledore's eyes when Severus delivered the news.

Severus nodded carefully. "I arrived at approximately three-thirty. His bed was empty."

Albus turned away, staring into the fire instead. Severus eyed the hand resting on the desk. It was clenched into a fist.

"He is with the Weasley twins," Albus said at last.

"Most likely," Severus agreed.

"Then we must find a way to break through those wards," Albus turned back to the Potions Master. "Perhaps Bill-"

"Albus," Severus cut him off. "Bill Weasley would never break through his brothers' wards. He's the one who taught them how to set them up in the first place. And I hardly need remind you of what happened last time you tried to force your way through."

Albus' eyes burned. "Harry needs to stay at Hogwarts."

Severus struggled to reign in his impatience. "Well Potter certainly does not want to. And while he is at that joke shop, none of us can get to him."

He finished sharper than he had intended and, with a curt nod of his head, stalked out of the office, fuming. This had always been one side of Albus that he hated: the man's need to dictate everything. It was times like these that he knew there was no difference between the Dark Lord and the Headmaster.

**r.R.r**

Harry jolted awake with a start, heart racing as he tried to remember where he was. He couldn't feel cold stone or hear the deathly rattles of nearby Dementors. Where was he?

It was several heart-pounding moments before he recognized the white sheets tangled around his legs and the soft bed beneath him. It took even longer before he realized where he was.

Harry drew in a shuddering breath before releasing it in a heavy sigh. He flopped back onto the bed. He couldn't go without sleep and he couldn't sleep without being plagued by nightmares. Merlin, he was a mess.

There was a knock at the door and Harry hastily untangled the nest of blankets. The last thing he needed was more fussing from anyone.

"Shh, he could still be asleep," A muffled voice whispered as the door swung open. Fred walked in first. "Don't make too much-"

Fred blinked, coming to a halt as he caught sight of Harry. "Oh, you're awake. Nevermind then."

The twins trooped in, grinning a little as they settled themselves at the end of the bed Harry was sitting in.

"What?" Harry asked, a little wary of the smirks directed at him.

George looked positively gleeful. "Grimmauld Place was in an uproar when Snape woke everyone up. And I got to tell mum off; you have no idea how much I've been wanting to do that. Never got the chance in all these years."

Harry nodded distractedly. A question that had been nagging at him last night appeared at the forefront of his thoughts again. "Er, not that I'm not... grateful, but won't Dumbledore think of... searching here first?"

To his surprise, the twins laughed outright.

"Harry," Fred snickered. "No one from the Order can get enter our shop, and _no one_ can come up here without our explicit permission."

"Not even Dumbledore," George added. "Bill taught us how to put up wards to block certain people." He paused. "Well, Bill can still get through. We thought it would've been pretty unfair if we warded him out as well, but he doesn't really come here unless it's an emergency."

Harry nodded again and the three lapsed into a contemplative silence.

"You'll be safe here, Harry," Fred spoke up again, breaking the quiet. "You know, until you can get back on your feet. We've still got all our schoolbooks and if you have any questions, George and I can help you."

Harry smiled a little to show his appreciation before frowning. "I've been wondering," He started slowly. "What happened to... Hedwig? Who has her now?"

The twins exchanged a glance.

"Ah," George scratched his head. "Well, nobody knows."

"She flew off," Fred continued. "The day you- That day you were framed and everything was shot to hell, she was moved to Grimmauld Place, along with the rest of your stuff."

"It was... evening, I think?" George frowned in recollection. "Right after the meeting Dumbledore called to tell us about you. She started making a terrible racket-"

"-wouldn't stop for ages," Fred shook his head. "Just kept screeching and flapping her wings until Charlie took pity and unlocked her cage."

"After that, no one could catch her. She managed to get out through an open window and we haven't seen her since."

Harry took all this in with growing relief. "That's okay then," He managed a smile at the concern both twins shot at him. "Hedwig's smart. She'll be fine on her own. She might even... come find me again."

The twins looked surprised. "Sounds more like a familiar than a pet," Fred voiced thoughtfully. "Then again, Hedwig's always been a bit different."

Harry nodded, and then continued his line of questioning. "What about my father's... invisibility cloak? And my broom? And the- the map?"

"We have the cloak," George immediately assured, waving a hand at the closet on the other side of the room. "Most of your books and school things too. We raided your trunk as soon as we could; managed to hide the cloak before Sirius and Remus could grab it." His expression turned apologetic. "But they got your broomstick and the map before us."

Harry shrugged, trying not to concentrate on the thrum of betrayal that always came with the thought of his father's best friends. "That's better than I hoped for, thank you. I don't want the map anyway. And the broom was a... gift from Sirius. I don't want that either."

To the twins' credit, neither said anything more when Harry started looking uncomfortable. Instead, George tugged on the blankets. "C'mon, now that you're up, come down for some breakfast. It's almost eleven in the morning and we have to open up shop at noon."

"We'll give you a tour," Fred said eagerly as Harry levered himself off the bed. "And you can help yourself to anything you want."

Harry struggled in the now-dry robes George had given him last night. He turned to blink at the twins. "I can't do that!" His movements were clumsy as he was led to the door. "I'm sure the Ministry will give me... compensation. When I get some money-"

"No way, Harry," Fred cut off firmly. "You don't pay here."

"You gave us our start-up loan, we haven't forgotten," George said sternly when Harry made to protest. "You take whatever you like; try everything out. You have every right to play around with them."

And, ignoring Harry's faltering objections, the two redheads marched him downstairs for a late breakfast.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-August 6****th****, 2002-**

It had been three days since Harry had been moved to the joke shop. Fred and George had given him back the things they had managed to sneak out of Grimmauld Place seven years ago, as well as digging out their own schoolbooks for him.

So, not really wanting to spend his time mingling with the shoppers downstairs, Harry remained in the bedroom or kitchen, reading or resting or simply staring into space at nothing, his mind taking him back to the long empty hours spent in a dark cell.

Of course, whenever this happened, Fred or George, both whom had taken it upon themselves to rush back and forth between their customers and Harry, always tried to snap him out of his trance as quickly as possible. Sometimes, Harry would lash out, not recognizing either twin for several panicked minutes. Other times, they would simply receive no response, empty green eyes staring dully back at them until they thought for certain that they had lost Harry for good.

But Harry always came back. Sometimes, it took seconds, once, it even took hours, but Harry always came back. And that was what the twins hung desperately on to.

On that particular Tuesday, business was slow, though to be fair, business had been a lot slower ever since Voldemort had taken over more and more of Europe, and families started to go into hiding.

George was standing at the counter, head propped in one hand as he stared worriedly at the sky outside the large windows of the joke shop.

"George?"

George started, elbow almost slipping off the flat surface as he snapped his head around. "Harry!" He grinned. Harry hadn't once come down of his own accord since arriving at their home. "Finally decided to come down, did you?"

Harry shrugged a little, looking small and still-tired in his robes. He had tied his hair back in a simple ponytail and now joined George at the counter.

"Wanted to stretch my legs," The younger wizard glanced around, eyes lingering on each product around the shop. His gaze returned to George soon enough. "Where's Fred?"

George's expression immediately turned somber. "St. Mungos. Angelina got hurt when she was stopping a raid in France."

Harry frowned, and George felt his heart clench when he didn't see recognition dawn in Harry's eyes for several seconds. "Angelina? Chaser?"

"Yeah, that's the one," George nodded with fake cheer. "From what I understand, she got caught with a Bone Shattering Hex. No lasting harm done; she'll be perfectly fine soon enough, and they could even move her back to Britain without a problem, but Fred had to go see her." He smirked. "Angelina's his girlfriend, you see, and they haven't seen each other in a few weeks."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Is she in the Order too?"

"Er, no," George shook his head. "It's a bit weird, really. The Order consists of people working directly with Dumbledore, and then there are the Hogwarts teachers who work with the Order, and the Ministry Aurors who follow the Order, and then there are the other witches and wizards who sort of fight part-time, like Fred and I. Angelina and a lot of other people are part of the last category. We're given the information of where we're needed and we join in if we feel like it. The system was set up about six years ago once the Order realized that there were some people who wanted to fight, but not all the time. They didn't want to join the Order outright so Dumbledore suggested something like this."

Harry nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence for a while. Surprisingly, it was Harry who broke it first.

"I need to go to Gringotts. Do you know if the Ministry... got into my trust vault?"

George blinked. "Yeah, they probably did, or at least Fudge did. But you've got your family vaults."

"Family vaults?"

George stilled, a frown creasing his brow. "Yeah. The Potters are rich, mate. The richest family in Great Britain, and one of the richest in all of Europe. And since you're the last one left, everything belongs to you." He studied the blank expression on Harry's face. "You... don't know any of this?"

Harry shrugged. "How would I know?"

"Well a goblin should have updated you your first time there, for one," George pointed out. "Unless your financial guardian..." He trailed off and his features darkened. "Ah, I see how it is."

"What?"

George sighed, frustration lining his face. "Dumbledore's probably your financial guardian, Harry. If he is, then he probably told the goblins not to tell you about your accounts."

Harry's shoulders sagged a little. "Why?"

George shrugged. "If there's one thing I've learned about Albus Dumbledore, it's that that man always wants to be in control. He probably saw some benefit in not telling you and kept it from you the best he could. Look, a goblin could probably tell you better than I could. Let me just lock up and we can get going."

As he expected, Harry opened his mouth to protest. George waved a dismissive hand. "I'm certainly not letting you go alone, mate, and business has been slow today. We can grab a bite to eat along the way."

Five minutes later, they were on their way to Gringotts, George slowing his strides to match Harry's. He pointed out new shops that had been built since Harry's incarceration and glared at anyone who stopped and pointed and whispered.

The Boy-Who-Lived, wrongly accused.

The World's Saviour, out of prison.

The Chosen One, Harry Potter.

Someone ran out of the crowd, camera raised, and George tugged Harry behind him, whipped out his wand, and sent a Tickling Hex at the reporter. As the man dropped, George glanced at the crowded street with an icy gaze. "The next one will be a Stinging Hex," He warned. "And then I'll start stunning people."

Everyone knew a Weasley when they saw one and everyone knew the entire Weasley family were active fighters in the war. No one wanted to get on the bad side of any of them so, reluctantly, they parted, still whispering, still looking, but keeping their distance.

"It was like this before Azkaban and it's still like this after Azkaban," Harry said in a wearily amused voice.

George snorted as he pocketed his wand. "People are just plain stupid. You'd think with the war going on, they'd have something better to do than stand around gossiping all day."

They made their way to Gringotts without further incident, but before either of them could ascend the front steps, a yelp of "watch out!" made them look up. George had just enough time to haul Harry out of the way again as a flash of pink tumbled past them. Instinctively, one of Harry's hands shot out, grabbing hold of a flailing arm and jerking the person to an abrupt stop beside them.

There was a heartbeat of silence before George groaned. "Tonks, how is it possible for _anyone_ to be this clumsy?"

The woman sat up and Harry instantly let go, snatching his hand back as if burned. Tonks only blinked sheepishly up at them, smiling brightly at Harry in the process.

"Wotcher George, Harry," She greeted, rising to her feet. "Sorry about that. And thanks for the hand," She added to Harry before sticking out a hand. "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Tonks."

Harry stared at the hand for a moment and George just knew the younger wizard had forgotten what he was supposed to do. To his surprise, Tonks' smile didn't falter and her hand remained open until recollection dawned on Harry's face. He hesitated for a second longer and then extended his own hand and shook it.

Tonks' smile widened a little before sobering again. "I'm sorry about what you had to go through. It's us Aurors who are supposed to get to the bottom of things and you didn't even get a trial."

Harry shrugged a little, not quite sure what to say. George quickly picked up on his discomfort and redirected the conversation. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were all off in France stopping the latest raid."

Tonks grimaced a little. "I was, but we just got the news that Spain has fallen. Not that we weren't already expecting it," She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "So half of us rushed back to receive any Spanish Aurors that managed to floo over before Voldemort shut down the grates connecting us. Mad-Eye told me to come over here and see if the goblins from their Spanish branch managed to get here safely. 'Bout half of them did."

George tried to ignore the horror that came with this piece of news. "That's something at least," He said lightly.

"Yeah," Tonks glanced down at Harry, who had so far stayed very silent. The expression on his face was very hard to read. "So what brings you here?"

"Harry needs money," George jerked his head at the bank. "Although I don't know if they're too busy right now."

"Nah," Tonks waved a hand. "The goblins have their pride. They would've closed up the bank if they couldn't still handle customers."

"I guess we'll be going then," George planted a foot on the first step. "See you later, Tonks."

Tonks nodded before glancing at Harry again. "I doubt you want to deal with the Ministry at the moment," She told him quietly. "I'll drop a word to Amelia – she's the DMLE Head – to send you an owl with the compensation money and your trust vault key."

Harry met her gaze briefly before nodding a little. "Thank you."

Tonks waved before turning to go her own way. "No need. See you later, Harry."

They watched her disappear into a crowd of people before entering Gringotts and approaching the first goblin that didn't look busy. George remained a few steps away as Harry spoke, voice still hoarse from disuse.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the goblin. The goblin didn't look up but Harry continued anyway. "I'd like to take a look at my vaults."

"Name?" The goblin grunted.

Harry lowered his voice even further. "Harry Potter."

The goblin froze, quill leaving an ink blotch on the parchment he had been writing on before looking up sharply. They had a brief staring match before the goblin straightened, something odd flickering across his face as he motioned for Harry to follow. "Come this way, please."

Harry glanced back at George who looked a little bemused. Since when were goblins polite to wizards?

They were led down a long corridor where the goblin knocked sharply on a door at the end of the hall. It swung open to reveal another goblin, older and definitely higher in command if his authoritative appearance was anything to go by.

"Ragnok," The goblin nodded sharply at Harry. "Mr. Potter is here."

Ragnok's gaze immediately snapped up, surveying Harry with sharp indecipherable eyes.

"Mr. Potter," He finally greeted, stepping aside. "Please come inside. I have wanted to speak to you for quite some time."

Harry looked a little uneasy and glanced back at George again. George smiled encouragingly at him. "Go on. Do you want me to come with you or wait out here?"

Harry nodded at once and George caught the brief instant green eyes became unfocused. Shit. He really hoped Harry wouldn't slip back into his mind before he could get him home.

"Right then," George followed Harry inside, ignoring the slight scowl the first goblin shot at him. Ragnok didn't seem to mind, nodding dismissively at the goblin before closing the office door.

Inside, George took a seat beside Harry and Ragnok settled into the chair across from them behind his desk.

"Now then," Ragnok started briskly. "My name is Ragnok, director of Gringotts and your accounts manager, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded. "Nice to meet you," He said quietly, and George caught a flash of surprise in Ragnok's eyes.

The goblin inclined his head before turning to pull out a file from his desk. "Approximately eleven years ago, you first arrived at Gringotts and was attended to by Griphook."

Harry nodded again. "I remember. He helped me during a few other times that I came here to... withdraw money."

If Ragnok noticed the slight hitch in Harry's speech, he paid it no mind. "Indeed. It came to our attention, however, that you were not replying to our bi-monthly letters about your vaults."

Harry only looked even more confused. "I never received any letters."

Ragnok turned back to Harry, gaze suddenly darker than before. "Yes, but unfortunately, we only realized that when your incarceration was announced and one Albus Dumbledore arrived at Gringotts and demanded access to your family vaults."

Harry stared, something like anger sparking in his eyes. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair he was sitting in. "I- what? Why would Dumbledore want my vaults? And how did you... realize that I wasn't replying?"

Ragnok took on a look of disdain. "By law, no one is allowed in another wizard's vault unless permitted to by the owner of said vault. If the owner is incarcerated or dead, trust vaults are turned over to the Ministry and are to remain unopened for a minimum of ten years, but family vaults are immediately locked down until a financial guardian requests entry or the owner's will states his desire to distribute it to other persons. If the financial guardian wishes entry, they too must have a handwritten document from the owner giving their permission. I received such a document from Albus Dumbledore upon his arrival here after your incarceration."

Harry jerked a little, the anger growing in his eyes. George couldn't blame him. He was pretty angry himself as the implications dawned on them.

"I didn't write him anything," Harry snapped, his anger making his words trip over themselves. "He shouldn't have been able to..." He seemed to struggle for a moment, frustration marring his features as he grasped for the right words.

"He was not able to enter," Ragnok continued for him, politely ignoring the slight impediment Harry had. His expression cooled as he continued. "Many among wizards have placed much faith in Albus Dumbledore, but we goblins have never trusted him. It was a very good forgery, I will admit," Ragnok's thin smile was shark-like. "It passed our preliminary and secondary scans; even the magical signature matched you."

"Then how..." Harry floundered, looking lost.

"Instinct," Ragnok said simply, and the craftiness on the goblin's face could rival the twins on a great day. Or a really bad day, depending on how one looked at it. "He looked far too triumphant and knowing what we do of his character, we realized the document was a forgery. If Dumbledore had to resort to such methods, it was not hard to believe that he had stopped our letters to you as well."

"But it passed the scans," Harry looked uncertain now.

"Yes, about that," Ragnok clasped his hands, eyes intent. "I believed the secondary scan to have been faulty and had Griphook run it again. It did not pass the second time, thus Dumbledore was denied access. We have had your family vaults under lockdown ever since."

There was a long pause and it was George who understood the subtle meaning in Ragnok's words first. He laughed and shook his head when Harry turned to look at him.

"Harry," George said, smirking with deep satisfaction. "They _faked_ the scan. They lied, and to Dumbledore no less."

While Harry gaped, Ragnok's voice took on a lofty tone, an edge of smugness underlying his words as he spoke. "We do not appreciate being deceived, especially by a wand-carrier, and we take our clients very seriously." His features sobered. "The Potter family has long been one of Gringotts' most valued patrons and we have already failed the last of the Potters quite spectacularly for four years. For this, I extend my most sincere apologies." And the goblin bowed his head, briefly, but there was no denying the gesture's sincerity.

George's jaw dropped. He had never seen a goblin bow to a wizard before. Ever.

Beside him, Harry leaned forward. "There's no need for that," He hastily assured, looking embarrassed. "It wasn't your fault. Dumbledore's to blame."

Ragnok raised his head again and gave him that same sharp indecipherable look as if he was trying to solve a particularly challenging puzzle. In the end, Ragnok simply inclined his head and reached for the folder.

"I have here a total sum of your family vaults," He started, pulling out a sheaf of parchment. "It includes the amount you have in each vault as well as the objects placed there. The total is at the end."

Harry scanned the document, eyebrows rising as his eyes fell on the total amount. Curious, George leaned over to take a peek. His jaw dropped again.

"Two thousand five hundred ninety million Galleons! How many vaults is that?"

Harry flipped through the pages. "Twelve vaults altogether, although two of them are for family heirlooms."

"Wow," George snickered as a certain thought struck him. "Dumbledore must have been hopping mad when you wouldn't let him in."

Ragnok inclined his head again, a glint of amusement appearing in his eyes.

Harry glanced up from the list. "So I can access these vaults... anytime I want?"

Ragnok nodded. "Indeed. You are now the sole owner of all the Potter vaults and everything else that comes with your inheritance. You can do what you wish with them."

Harry was silent for a long moment. Just when George was starting to think Harry had slipped away again, the younger wizard looked up, resolve hardening his features. "Then right now, I'd like to take a look at my parents' will."

Ragnok didn't look surprised, reaching into the folder and pulling out another document instead. He handed it over to Harry, and they saw a crest embossed on the front. There was a knight's helmet with three golden lilies above it, set on top of a black shield with three five-petal white flowers and a stripe of ermine fur across the middle, all set against an intricate leaf design of gold and green.

George had never had much interest in genealogy but being part of a pureblood family, his parents had, once or twice, been able to make him and his twin sit down long enough to explain some of the meaning behind different coats of arms. He quickly identified the gold to mean generosity and elevation of the mind, the green as hope, joy, and loyalty in love, the black of the shield to mean constancy or grief set with the white to mean peace and sincerity. The three flowers were most likely cinquefoils, which, like the green, meant hope and joy, and the fur itself was a mark of dignity and royalty. He wondered if the lilies, symbolizing purity, had been added after Harry's father's marriage.

Looking closer, he spotted four symbols to the left of the actual crest. The first was a red heraldic lion and knew it to mean bravery, military strength, ferocity, valour, and generosity. Somewhat surprised that he still remembered all this, he moved on to the next symbol. It took him a few seconds to place this one, recognizing it to be a hunting horn after squinting closely at it. It meant one who was fond of the chase, of high pursuits, and he remembered it to be Percy's favorite. The third was a golden feather, a sign of obedience and serenity. George wasn't quite sure why it was there. He had a hard time picturing any Potter to be obedient. The final symbol was a blue castle; the castle itself meant safety and protection, and the blue meant truth and loyalty. That, George could easily see.

He thought it was interesting to note that there were no heraldic lines or ordinaries anywhere on the coat of arms, but when he considered Harry, he couldn't really decide which element the younger wizard was most suited for. His first guess would've been air; Harry was a born flier after all. But air represented mental processes, language, intellect, reason, human communication and social relationships, and while some of those applied, Harry had never been all that great at socializing.

His next guess would probably be water or earth. The former mostly meant intuition and emotion, which Harry had plenty of, and the latter meant practicality and realism, which Harry could be as well. Both elements represented a calmer personality, and George had observed, on more than a few occasions, Harry diffusing a heated situation between Ron and Hermione.

But then George remembered the few times Harry's temper had shown, exploding like a volcano and suitably scaring anyone it was directed to. Harry wasn't always practical either; his sense of self-preservation was a prime example. And fire was the sign for leaders, for people who inspired faith and motivated others, and George recalled all the times he and Fred had followed Harry's lead with barely a thought, whether it was during Quidditch or at school or at the Burrow. Besides their parents, Harry had been the only other person who had made them feel properly chastised when their pranks crossed the line, the only one who had ever made them apologize and mean it.

He and Fred weren't mean, they weren't bullies of any sort, but they had never really gone out of their way to help other people. But that day, almost eleven years ago on Platform 9¾, before they had realized the scrawny first-year to be Harry Potter, they had offered their help when they saw the difficulty he had been having with his trunk. Well, to be fair, George had seen and offered his help first before calling Fred over, but that wasn't the point. The point was that they had _helped_, without anyone telling them to, and to a complete stranger no less.

So he wasn't really sure which element Harry was because he could be all four, and he supposed the lack of indication on the crest suited Harry perfectly.

An elbow to his ribs made George blink, and then smile sheepishly when he realized both of the office's other occupants were staring at him. He had been mesmerized by the coat of arms and hadn't noticed anything else.

"Sorry," He offered, and then blinked. There it was. An apology out of the blue when, with anyone else, he would've made a joke about it.

"S'okay," Harry glanced at the crest. "You know what this means?"

George nodded. "Mum taught all of us. I'll tell you when we get home."

Harry smiled faintly and nodded before flipping open the document.

George, more curious than ever, stamped down on the desire to peek again. This was more personal after all.

But Harry glanced at him, looking almost amused as his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and leaned over so that George could read too. George flashed him a quick grin before focusing on the will.

_**Last Will and Testament of James Charlus Potter**_

_I, James Charlus Potter, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my most recent will, and any __wills submitted before this are considered null and void._

_To my son, Harry James Potter, I leave all of my worldly possessions excluding those listed below:_

_To Sirius Orion Black, I leave the Potter Coastal Villa in Cornwall, Britain._

_To Remus John Lupin, I leave 200000 Galleons and all Defence Against the Dark Arts texts in my collection._

_To Peter Richard Pettigrew, I leave 413 Potter Mansion in Rome, Italy._

_In regards to my son's guardianship until he is of age, I hereby name:_

_Sirius Orion Black as Harry James Potter's godfather and financial guardian, and upon the deaths of my wife and I, my son is to be placed in his care._

_Should that not be possible, I hereby allow the following people as possible guardians:_

_Frank Timothy Longbottom and Alice Katrina Longbottom née Prewett_

_Remus John Lupin_

_Minerva Davina McGonagall_

_Under no circumstances is my son to be placed with Lily Helena Potter née Evans' family or anyone else unlisted above._

_To conclude, I wish my son and friends the happiest of lives and the greatest luck in all to come._

_Signed,_

_James Charlus Potter_

_**Last Will and Testament of Lily Helena Potter née Evans**_

_I, Lily Helena Potter née Evans, being of sound mind and body, do declare this to be my__ most recent will, and any __wills submitted before this are considered null and void._

_To my son, Harry James Potter, I leave all of my worldly possessions excluding those listed below:_

_To Alice Katrina Longbottom née Prewett, I leave my photo album of our time at Hogwarts._

_To Severus Tobias Snape, I leave all Potions text in my collection._

_In regards to my son's guardianship until he is of age, I fully consent to the same guardians listed in my husband's will, and I hereby name:_

_Alice Katrina Longbottom née Prewett as Harry James Potter's godmother_

_Under no circumstances is my son to be placed with my sister, Petunia Carol Dursley née Evans and her family or anyone else unlisted in my husband's will._

_To conclude, I wish my son and friends the happiest of lives, to love with utmost faith, and to cherish each day knowing that they are loved in return._

_Signed,_

_Lily Helena Potter née Evans_

George leaned back, a mixture of sorrow and wonder in his chest. Even though it was just a will, he had the most peculiar feeling that he had gotten to know Harry's parents just a little. He glanced sideways at Harry and then promptly leapt to his feet. "Harry!"

He swore, all but tearing the will out of Harry's grip and tossing it back onto the desk before crouching down in front of him. Empty green eyes stared at nothing in particular, mind having retreated once again behind mental walls.

"Harry, please," George pleaded, shaking the younger a little. "Don't do this again. Come on, Harry, snap out of it."

No matter how many times this happened, George always felt terrified, because one day, Harry might not come back at all.

He slapped Harry gently and then tried to stave off his panic when there was no reaction. He had never handled something like this without Fred around.

"Come on, Harry," George shook him again, completely forgetting where he was. "Come back."

"Stand back," Ragnok's voice made him glance to the side before moving to stand protectively in front of Harry.

"What are you going to do?" George demanded, eyeing the goblin warily. He didn't know much about goblin magic, just that it was very different from wizard magic.

Ragnok's expression turned cold. "I wish to help him. I may be a goblin but perhaps putting aside your-"

George glared at him, cutting him off. "I'm not prejudiced!" He snapped. "You could be Merlin himself and I'd ask the same question! Harry's been hurt enough to last three lifetimes. I'm not letting anyone near him unless I know what they want to do!"

Ragnok blinked, the anger slowly easing from his expression before he gave a curt nod. "Simple goblin magic to draw him out of his mind. It will not hurt."

George hesitated for a second longer before stepping out of the way to let the goblin approach. He hovered over Ragnok's shoulder as the goblin raised a hand in front of Harry's face. A moment later, an invisible wave of energy seemed to expand from the director, seeping into Harry. George almost leapt at the goblin until he saw cognizance reappear in Harry's eyes again.

Scrambling back in front of the younger wizard, George stared anxiously at him. "Harry? Are you alright?"

There was a long minute of silence before Harry nodded slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry," Harry glanced first at him and then at Ragnok.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, looking so tired and drawn that George wanted to hunt down Dumbledore and hex him into oblivion. "I'm not... entirely well."

"S'alright, Harry," George assured. "You'll get better. This is probably just a defense mechanism. You know, because of the will and everything. You'll get better." George wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

Harry couldn't quite muster a smile, but motioned for George to return to his seat. He sent an apologetic look at Ragnok instead, but the goblin only waved it off and returned to his own seat.

"It is to be expected, Mr. Potter," Ragnok said when Harry made to apologize again. "Quite impressive that you have already ventured back amongst the world so soon after your release."

This time, Harry did manage a wavering smile. It faltered soon enough as his gaze slid to the will strewn on the desk.

"I don't have to deal with... guardians anymore, do I?" Harry glanced back at Ragnok.

The goblin shook his head. "You are of age. Even though you were incarcerated at fifteen, the law states that those who are seventeen or over, no matter the circumstances with the exception of acknowledged mental disabilities, are adult wizards. You seem quite sound to me, Mr. Potter. There will be no problems."

Harry nodded once. "Okay." He glanced at George this time. "If you want your bed back, I could move into-"

George scowled. "Don't even think about it. We've already transfigured a third in our room. There's no need for you to move out."

Harry observed him for a moment and George could swear he saw something of the old Harry surface briefly, shy and grateful and a sort of delighted surprise at finding himself liked underlying it that George had first sensed when Harry had been a first-year. It was plain depressing that he could still sense it now that Harry was twenty-two.

"Alright," Harry turned back to Ragnok. "I'd just like to withdraw some money then."

Ragnok nodded, rising to his feet and moving over to a small vault on the other side of the room. "Of course. I have already prepared the necessary item." He drew out a dark blue pouch. "With the current state Britain is in, I highly doubt you wish to make repeated trips between your household and Gringotts. This pouch will draw coins directly from your accounts and will only work for you. All your vaults are connected to this. If you wish to change Wizard currency to Muggle currency, simply tap the pouch twice with your wand. It will automatically draw the appropriate amount you want. Tap it twice again to change it back. If you wish to know the remaining amount in your vaults, simply tap the pouch once and say 'Quantitas'. If you wish to know the amount in a certain vault," Ragnok motioned to the document that listed all of Harry's assets. "Say the vault number afterwards. Any questions?"

Harry looked a bit dumbfounded as he shook his head and accepted the pouch. "Thanks, Ragnok," He carefully tucked the pouch away and offered the goblin a genuine smile.

Ragnok inclined his head as he gathered up the will and shuffled it back into the folder. "There is no need. We do our best for our clients, Mr. Potter."

Harry rose to his feet, George keeping a sharp eye on him. "Thank you anyways," Harry extended a hand. "I mean that."

This time, no one missed the startled look on the goblin's face as he stared at Harry's hand. It passed quite soon and Ragnok took it and gave a firm shake, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

"A pleasure, Mr. Potter," Ragnok showed them to the door as George held back a laugh. "Please do not hesitate to ask any questions you may have at any time."

Several minutes later, they were outside again and George burst into laughter again, startling several bystanders and earning him a bemused expression from Harry.

"Harry," George reached out to ruffle black hair. "Only you could gain the respect of goblins while doing something as simple as looking over your accounts."

Harry shot him a look that clearly questioned his mental capabilities, but George only grinned back good-naturedly as they headed home.

"I still need to buy some things," Harry murmured as they ignored the prying eyes around them.

"Another day," George said sternly. "You need rest."

Harry frowned but the way he relented without complaint told George everything he needed to know.

**r.R.r**

"Sirius! Albus wants access to Grimmauld Place! He's making it an order."

Sirius glowered up at Kingsley as he wrapped a makeshift bandage around his right arm, stemming the blood flow as best he could. Outside the tent, shouts and blasts of magic mingled together to create a grim cacophony.

"Yeah? Well you can tell him he can shove his orders where the sun doesn't shine!" Sirius snapped back, rising to his feet and grabbing his wand again. "Now if you don't mind, I've got more important things to do, like fighting Death Eaters for instance. I don't see Albus bloody Dumbledore doing anything to help!"

He ducked out of the tent but couldn't run back outside the wards before Kingsley clapped a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The Auror studied him for a long moment, and Sirius could only imagine what he was seeing. He knew he wasn't at his best.

"I'll tell Dumbledore I couldn't find you," Kingsley said at last, before lowering his voice a notch. "Don't get yourself killed, Sirius. You won't be doing anyone any favours." He paused, seemingly debating with himself about something before coming to a decision. "Harry's fine. He's in good hands."

Sirius started, the desperation he had been holding at bay coming back again. "He's alright? You've seen him?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Tonks saw him. She wouldn't say where or who with, but she says he looks as well as can be expected, and that he's being taken care of."

Some of his anxiety lifted a bit with the news, but Sirius couldn't help the disappointment that followed. "Well," He mustered a weak smile. "As long as he's fine."

Kingsley frowned at him but nodded and let him go. Sirius immediately bolted off, throwing himself past the shields that guarded the camp and back into the roiling fray of hexes and curses. So long as he was occupied with battle, he wouldn't have to worry about Harry.

* * *

**Finished. Much longer this time to make up for all the days it took to put this together. Review, review, review!**


	10. Just Another Day

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thank you to all who took the time to review! I always appreciate reading them!**

**Note 2: This next chapter will be a bit shorter but there'll be more action in it.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Just Another Day in the Life of Harry Potter**

_The ordinary man is involved in action, the hero acts. An immense difference.  
-Henry Miller_

* * *

**-August 8****th****, 2002-**

"I have been expecting you, Mr. Potter."

Harry tensed at the wispy voice coming from somewhere out of sight. Behind him, the twins both sighed in unison.

"Harry's come for a wand, Mr. Ollivander," Fred said in a raised voice. "And we're in a bit of a hurry."

As if on cue, all three of them glanced out the shop windows. There had been rumours circulating that another raid on Diagon Alley would start soon, but they had agreed that it would be best for Harry to get a wand of his own if any fights were to break out.

Ollivander appeared from the back room, looking just as old as Harry remembered him to be. The wandmaker studied him closely, and Harry had to force himself not to squirm under his gaze.

"I remember when you first arrived at my shop eleven years ago," Ollivander said abruptly, still surveying him with silvery eyes. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. But," Those eyes peered at him sternly. "I hear it was snapped."

"Not his fault," George said even louder than Fred, a sharp undertone of annoyance edging his voice. "Harry can't help that the Ministry consists of idiots."

"No, no, of course not," Ollivander murmured, but there was still a slight frown on his face. "But I believe you do recall what I told you about that wand? Its brother gave you that scar, and provided a certain protection against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Yes, well," George cut in once more, voice terse as he glanced out the window again. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be strolling up the street in a couple minutes, so, if you please, Mr. Ollivander..."

Ollivander sighed and Harry could swear he saw the man give George a thoroughly annoyed look before shuffling over to the wands stacked against the wall. Barely a second later, a tape measure flew into the air and started taking Harry's measurements, shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor. Harry idly wondered if the wandmaker only did it for show.

"Right then, Mr. Potter," Ollivander turned with a stack of boxes in his arms and the tape measure dropped to the floor. "Try this one: ash and dragon heartstring, ten inches, good for defensive spells."

Harry waved it half-heartedly, instinctively knowing this would not be his wand. Ollivander snatched it back almost immediately and Harry wondered if getting a wand this time would take as long as last time. With his luck, probably.

"Here, hawthorn and dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches, sharpens your wand strength."

And again it was snatched back before Harry could wave it. Fred and George had taken a seat by the door, watching him with a mix of interest and amusement.

"Perhaps, like your mother, willow and unicorn tail hair, eleven and three-quarter inches, has strong healing properties-"

Harry only had time to pick it up before Ollivander whisked it away again.

"No, no, maybe this one: hornbeam and unicorn tail hair, twelve inches, also good for defence."

And Harry tried wand after wand, and just like before, Ollivander seemed to get more excited as the wands piled up. Harry's count was up to thirty-four by the time the wandmaker stopped near the back of the shop, eyeing something at the back of the shelves, and Harry felt a thrum of unease run through him. Ollivander had the same look on his face just before he had handed Harry his first wand.

"Hmm, well, why not?" Ollivander muttered to himself. Fred and George rose to their feet, drawing closer with identical expressions of curiosity.

"Yes, yes, I don't see the harm," Ollivander pulled out a long black box and returned to Harry, a strange expression on his face. "Do try this one, Mr. Potter. It should be interesting to see..."

He trailed off and pulled out a wand the colour of onyx. Unlike his first wand, which had been a mixture of close but different browns with a dark grey handle, this one was entirely black, so much that Harry fancied seeing a touch of midnight blue to the wood.

With a sense of trepidation and anticipation, Harry picked it up and instantly knew this wand was his. Magic, something he hadn't really felt for over seven years, rushed through his body, warm and welcoming, and he waved it through the air, leaving a trail of twilight blue sparks in its wake.

Fred and George each clapped one of his shoulders, congratulatory grins on their faces as Ollivander's eyes widened.

"Remarkable," The wandmaker murmured, surveying Harry closely. "Twice you have come into my store, and twice, it seems, you will be leaving with an extraordinary wand."

Harry glanced at the wand in his hand. "What is this made of?" He asked quietly.

"It is a very rare combination," Ollivander said. "Even more so than your first wand, for it is the only one of its kind."

He fell silent for a moment, staring at the black wand with something akin to wonder. "Ebony and phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches," He said at last.

Harry frowned. That wasn't so rare, was it?

Ollivander seemed to sense his confusion because he expanded, "The donation of a feather from a phoenix is somewhat uncommon, but I would not say rare. I have come across several wands containing phoenix feathers in my time. But this wand has been passed to me by my father, and was passed to him by his, and so on. Ebony is a very powerful wood in and of itself, Mr. Potter," Ollivander's eyes grew even more intent. "But it is the phoenix who donated the feather that makes this wand special. You see, the feather in this wand came from a black phoenix."

Silence filled the shop and the ticking of the clock became very loud. Fred was the first to speak.

"I thought black phoenixes don't exist," He stared between the wand and Ollivander. "They're just legends, aren't they? Bedtime stories."

"Oh, they're very much real, Mr. Weasley," Ollivander turned his gaze on Fred. "They stay away from humans and there are very few left who believe they exist, much less seen one. I myself have never had the honour, but one of my ancestors, also a wandmaker of course, made this wand after a black phoenix saved his life and left a single feather behind."

"But you said black phoenixes stayed away from humans," George pointed out, tone slightly skeptical. "Why would one just save your ancestor?"

"Black phoenixes are much like normal phoenixes in many ways, but different in others. Phoenixes in general symbolize rebirth and healing. They signify new beginnings and hope for the future. They are kind creatures but very difficult to domesticate. And while normal phoenixes represent the sun and some would say that they are stronger during the day, black phoenixes are the opposite. They represent the moon and flourish in the night. I am not saying that they are not quite powerful at any time," Ollivander added sharply to his captive audience. "But while normal phoenixes, much like the sun, shine brighter during the day, black phoenixes hide in the night, staying in the shadows until they are needed. I do not know the full story behind my ancestor and the black phoenix he saw, but I do know that black phoenixes are very real, and the wand you are holding contains a feather from that phoenix."

All four stared down at the black wand again before Harry stirred and nodded once. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. How much do I owe you?"

Harry handed over the nine galleons and turned to leave, but Ollivander had one last thing to say.

"Be careful with that wand, Mr. Potter. There is a reason why no one has ever been able to wield it. In the wrong hands, it could cause destruction the likes of which no one has ever seen. It is your wand, and yours alone. No one else's."

With that warning ringing in his ears, Harry slipped from the shop, the twins on either side of him.

"Well," George said cheerfully. "Ollivander's as creepy as ever. Though I suppose, to be on the safe side, I'll be sure to borrow Fred's wand if I don't have mine."

Harry mustered a half-smile as he slipped his wand away. Why couldn't he even walk into a wand shop and come out with a normal encounter like everyone else?

"Don't be so down, Harry," Fred patted his shoulder. "So you've got a powerful wand; big deal. From what I heard, that's really no different from your old wand. That feather may come from a black phoenix, but it's still a phoenix any way you look at it. Cheer up."

Harry managed a more genuine smile this time and let himself relax. Fred was right. His new wand may be powerful, but his old wand had been the same. More so, because of its connection with Voldemort's. What he should be concentrating on was what he could do with his wand instead. He had a lot of catching up to do.

**r.R.r**

Shouts and screams cut through the air and Harry almost jerked out of his seat, shooting to his feet as he looked through the window. Down below, people were running down the streets, fear twisting their expressions.

Behind him, the bedroom door burst open and Fred and George charged in, wands already out as they grabbed their cloaks.

"Stay here, Harry!" Fred shouted, already sprinting out again.

"Diagon Alley's being attacked," George lingered for a second longer to explain. "We're going to where the fight is. You stay with the shop!"

A moment later, Harry was alone again, and mere seconds later, he saw the twins dash out onto the streets, running against the tide of people as they headed up the street.

A curious feeling twisted his stomach as he slowly sat down again. He didn't want to fight; hell, he couldn't remember a time when he had _ever_ wanted to fight. But in the split second he had seen the twins run off into battle, his first instinct had been to run after them.

Harry heaved a sigh and turned back to the textbooks laid out in front of him. Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Most of the spells came surprisingly easily to him, especially after the first few days. His fourth year had come rushing back to him; if nothing else, the Triwizard Tournament that year had given him a wide variety of spells to use.

He glanced at the window again when an explosion shook the air. He saw flashes of red and green and blue whizz past and wondered how many would be dead at the end of the day.

Was it right to sit here and do nothing when he had a wand and magic and the ability to do something?

But they had him left in Azkaban to rot, a sly voice reminded him.

Not all of them, he argued back. Were the children to blame? The elderly? The sick? Perhaps even a handful of people who had believed in his innocence but could do nothing about it? And Fred and George? Were they to blame?

Was it right to condemn the entire nation for only some people's mistakes?

But most of them didn't help him, the voice spoke again. Didn't lift a finger.

But a few of them did, Harry thought of the Weasley twins. Was it right to let them die along with the rest? Was it truly right to simply let anyone die? Life was precious; that much he had always believed in.

A crash downstairs jerked him out of his thoughts and he shot to his feet again, wand held in front of him. He crept to the door before continuing to the top of the stairs. From this distance, he could hear a voice downstairs, cold and jeering.

"-this is the blood traitors' shop? Well, I suppose the shoddy state of this place suits those them."

Harry realized, with a jolt, that he knew that voice. He couldn't quite place it but he thought it was probably a fellow student from when he was still in Hogwarts. And, judging by the laughter and another crash, probably Slytherin.

Quickly, he ran through the offensive spells he had learned. He wondered, at the back of his mind, why the twins bothered putting up wards to shut out the Order but none to block Death Eaters.

He winced as another crash sounded and silently crept down the stairs. Stooping a little, he caught sight of three figures, all with wands, trashing the store without care.

Right then, they outnumbered him but he had the element of surprise. He would have to be quick.

Taking a deep breath, Harry waited until two Death Eaters were in clear sight of his wand, pointed, and muttered, "Stupefy."

A jet of red light crashed into one figure and Harry quickly shot off another. It missed by a hairsbreadth as the second Death Eater dove out of the way with a shriek.

"There's someone here!"

Harry ducked out of sight so that he would see them before they would see him. Soon enough, a head peered around the corner and Harry wasted no time.

"Impedimenta!" The magic flowed out of him and through the ebony wand, straight and true and fast, and caught the Death Eater full in the face. Harry blinked when the man flew backwards, crashing into the counter and out of sight.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry ducked out of the way again, heart pounding as green light flashed past him and crashed into the wall behind him.

Swearing in his head, he chanced another glance and jerked back just in time as the remaining Death Eater shrieked "Bombarda!"

Harry just managed to scramble out of the way as the wall exploded, sending chunks of plaster flying. One sliced a red line across his cheek but Harry had no time to check on it as footsteps approached.

"Come out!" The female yelled, pausing somewhere below him. "You can't hide forever!"

Harry grimaced and looked around. He slipped forward and threw another stunner downstairs, only for a Reductor Curse to come whizzing past him, blowing another chunk of wall to smithereens. The twins were going to kill him.

This was getting him nowhere. He supposed he would have to do something very reckless to take the enemy by surprise. He surveyed the half-ruined staircase, eyed the banister, steeled himself, took a deep breath, and ran.

He reached the banister in three running steps and vaulted over it, ignoring the slight tremble of his arm as it struggled to support his weight. He threw up a shield just in time as the shocked Death Eater sent a desperate Cutting Hex at him. The shield managed to cover most of him but he hadn't been fast enough to screen his arm and he gritted his teeth as it sliced through his shirt and through his skin.

He crashed into her from above, sending them both to the ground before he managed to pin her wand arm and mutter a quick stunner. At this close a range, the impact knocked the woman out and Harry, gasping for breath, snatched up her wand before staggering to his feet.

He paused, blinking down at the black-haired woman slumped on the ground. A memory crashed into the forefront of his mind of a girl with an almost permanent sneer on her face, following Malfoy around half the time. It only took him another minute before a name came back to him.

Pansy Parkinson.

So she had joined Voldemort after all. Well, he supposed that wasn't all that surprising.

Stepping around her, he stumbled to the front of the store and suppressed a sigh at the sight of the destruction. The other two Death Eaters were both dead to the world, one was sprawled on the ground and the other was lying amongst the broken glass of the counter. The door had been kicked down and the glass windows shattered. The merchandise was scattered on the ground but Harry supposed that they had had enough sense not to actually aim a hex at anything in case it blew up in their faces.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Harry levitated the Death Eater at the counter over to his friend on the ground before starting on repairs. It was the least he could do after letting the three Death Eaters wreak all this destruction.

Rapid footsteps reached his ears when he was halfway through levitating the merchandise back to their proper boxes and a moment later, the twins burst through the newly repaired door, staring around in shock as they took in the mess. They turned wide-eyed expressions on Harry a moment later, both gaping at him openly.

"I'm sorry," Harry quickly mumbled, dumping the last of the joke products in their rightful place. "I didn't mean to... let them get this far. I got all three of them though; they're... unconscious back there. I'm really sor-"

"Blimey, Harry," Fred cut him off in an oddly faint voice. "Would you please stop apologizing? We feel bad enough as it is."

Harry only had time to blink before the twins were standing in front of him. George quickly transfigured his cloak into a towel and pressed it against Harry's arm. Harry jerked a little, hissing as he registered the pain.

"Shit, Harry, we're sorry," George muttered, grimacing as he watched the blood soak into the cloth. "We forgot to put up the wards against intruders. We don't usually do it, you see, especially when it's a surprise attack like today."

Harry frowned in confusion as Fred transfigured a chair for him and gently pushed him down into it. "I don't... understand," He glanced at each twin. "You told me to... stay here. Didn't you want me to... guard the shop?"

Fred and George both looked thoroughly exasperated.

"Harry," Fred shook his head, producing another towel to wipe at the blood dripping from Harry's face. "That's not what we meant. We wanted you to stay here so you would be safe. Fat lot of good that would've been since we forgot to raise the wards anyway. We didn't remember until someone told us that our shop had been attacked. We came back as soon as we could."

Harry looked down, plucking the towel from Fred's hand to mop up the blood himself. "Oh," He said, feeling a little stupid. "I didn't know. But it's okay. I'm fine."

"You're shaking," George pointed out bluntly as he peeled back more of Harry's blood-drenched sleeve.

Harry glanced at his wand hand. Oh. He was shaking. But he had been fine during the fight.

Numbly, he watched his wand slip from his fingers and clatter to the ground. Fred wasted no time in picking it up for him before helping him to his feet.

"Come on, Harry, let's get you upstairs." They ushered him towards the back, blinking at the Death Eaters slumped on the floor.

"Wow," George prodded Pansy with a shoe. "Nice work, Harry."

**r.R.r**

George let loose a low whistle as they started repairing the rest of the damage. "Harry's still got it, even after seven years in prison."

"He was always great at Defence," Fred agreed, fixing the broken banister.

George laughed outright as a thought occurred to him. "Three healthy Death Eaters against a wizard who just started performing spells again today. What is the world coming to?"

"Just be thankful that he could handle them," Fred countered, uncharacteristically serious. "Or we would've come home to a dead body."

George's grin immediately turned into a frown. "There is that. We really have to remember to set the wards from now on."

They worked in companionable silence for a while, repairing the walls and cleaning up the debris.

"We can dump those three at Grimmauld Place," Fred suggested as the broken plaster flew back in place. "I'm sure Mad-Eye'll appreciate it."

"Yeah, but we don't say anything about Harry." George cautioned. "Last thing we need is Harry's magical abilities leaking back to Dumbledore."

"Agreed. Let's go."

They quickly levitated the three Death Eaters, left a note on the counter in case Harry came down again, which wasn't very likely, and then headed for their fireplace.

"I swear," George grumbled as he tossed a handful of floo powder into the lit grate. "We're not even in the Order and we do their work for them anyway."

Fred's derisive snort was lost amongst the green flames as they disappeared through the floo network.

* * *

**Another one done! Harry got his wand! Review and tell me what you thought!**


	11. And So Time Passes Part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! Much appreciated!**

**Note 2: This chapter will be somewhat strange because it'll consist of several months. Just watch out for the dates and it'll be pretty clear.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – And So Time Passes (Part 1)**

_You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by. _

_-James M. Barrie_

* * *

**-August 9****th****, 2002-**

When Fred jolted awake to the sound of frightened whimpering, his first thought wasn't 'What's going on?', or 'Harry's having a nightmare', or even a simple 'Oh no'.

It was, with an astounding sense of clarity, 'Harry's going to do something stupidly noble like offer to leave'. For four AM in the morning, his brain was functioning pretty well.

"Harry!" Fred hauled himself out of bed as he heard his brother trying to wake their houseguest.

"Harry, you're alright, it's only a nightmare, it's not real," George babbled, and Fred took a moment to feel distantly amused to see George this worried. And then the last of the fog of sleep lifted from his mind and he tripped his way over to the other side of the room to give his twin a hand.

"Harry, wake up," Fred ducked a flailing arm as Harry lashed out. "You're at the joke shop, Harry, you're fine. Everything's fine. Wake up!"

Harry jerked awake so violently that he almost tumbled off the bed, a choked sob tearing from his throat as he reached out and grabbed onto George's sleeve with a white-knuckled grip.

It was another ten minutes before Harry stopped shaking, and another five before the twins agreed to return to bed. Neither of them slept though, so, when Harry slid out of bed half an hour later and snuck out of the cluttered bedroom, the twins got up as well and wordlessly followed.

**r.R.r**

"Not thinking of leaving, are you?" Fred asked lightly as they sat around the kitchen table sipping hot chocolate.

Harry didn't say anything, looking even unhealthier in the dim light.

"We expected the nightmares, Harry," George continued, eyes intent. "We don't mind."

Harry just scrubbed a hand through messy black locks, sighing wearily. "I'm not- not going to get... completely better," He said at last, fiddling with his mug. "You can't possibly want to put up with me forever."

"Like we care, Harry," Fred scoffed. "Besides, you just got out barely a week ago. Give it time. You're already talking a lot better than you were even just a few days ago, and considering the fact that you duelled three Death Eaters by yourself yesterday, I'd have to say you're moving around a lot better too."

When Harry refused to look at them, George leaned forward, frowning. "We _want_ you to stay, Harry," He insisted. "If you leave, Fred and I will just have to spend a whole lot of time finding you, which we really wouldn't even need to if you don't leave in the first place."

He finished on a bright note and Harry finally glanced up. "You really don't mind?"

Fred gulped down the rest of his chocolate, warmth and relief spreading inside him in equal measure. "If we minded, Harry, we wouldn't have taken you in in the first place."

The twins would count the half-smile Harry offered in return as a hard-won victory.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-August 11****th****, 2002-**

"Alright, first of all, Fred and I would like to apologize for the very long wait, but they didn't actually keep their stock in the shop so we had to wait for them to order one for us."

Harry quirked a questioning eyebrow at the twins. They had sat him down while he had been poking half-heartedly at his late lunch, excited grins on their faces.

"Okay, close your eyes," Fred ordered, and Harry sighed before complying.

There was a rustle and muffled whispers before he sensed something being placed down in front of him.

"Now open them," Fred instructed.

Harry blinked open his eyes again, gaze dropping onto the long package in front of him before freezing in place when his mind registered exactly what it was.

"Happy belated birthday!" The twins chorused gleefully.

Harry barely heard as he slowly extended a hand to touch the colourful wrapping paper hiding what was very obviously a broomstick.

Of all the things Harry missed as he got used to the outside world again, flying was at the top of his list. But he didn't want his Firebolt back, and the huge crowd of people he had seen surrounding Quality Quidditch Supplies had been enough to deter him.

"You- I- I don't know what to say," He said faintly, and then flushed a little. "I mean, thank you, I-"

The twins laughed and George reached over to push the package closer. "Well open it," He said. "Staring at it isn't going to do anything."

"Er, right-" Harry quickly peeled back the wrapping paper, being careful so as not to tear it because, on closer observation, he found several different-coloured snitches flitting around, and he wanted to figure out what charms went into it later.

And then he was staring at a golden-brown shaft and a head with beautifully straight bristles, bound together with a silver band. Peering closer, Harry read, in gold cursive lettering, Sky King.

"The Sky King," Fred announced. "Newest broom on the market; came out about three months ago. Capable of going from nought to three hundred miles per hour in twelve seconds. There's an unbreakable Braking Charm on it, of course, excellent balance and precision, and hovers at reasonable mounting height when let go. Special features include an Invisible Extension Charm to put your things in – over here – and an automatic Shrinking Charm for when you just want to carry it around in your pocket when you're on land."

"Even the Lightningbolt, that's the broomstick that came out a few years after the Firebolt," George explained. "Was made from mahogany, but the wood from this broom is white oak. Harder, less easy to snap, and imbues magic a lot better. Fastest broom you can find in the world, mate."

Harry was near-speechless, hands closing reverently around the handle. "I- I can't accept this," He stammered. "This must have cost a fortune-"

"Birthday present, Harry," Fred waved a dismissive hand. "You'll hurt our feelings if you try to give it back."

"Just take it, Harry," George advised. "Our joke shop's been doing really well. It's expensive, but not so much that we can't afford it. Besides, Harry Potter without a broom? Oliver would have a heart attack."

This startled a surprised chuckle out of Harry and he stared at the broom for a moment longer before offering a grateful smile to the twins. "Okay, thank you."

The simple thanks was hardly enough to repay them, but both Fred and George only leaned back and grinned at him.

Harry would have loved to take it out for a test run, but for now, it was enough that he had another broom in his possession.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-September 1****st****, 2002-**

"Are you _sure_, Harry? It would be no trouble to close up for a bit and come with you?"

Harry offered a swift smile as he pulled on his cloak. "I'm sure, George. I'll be fine. It won't even take half an hour."

George sighed but nodded reluctantly. "Alright, but if you're not back in half an hour, Fred and I are coming after you."

Harry nodded, mildly amused, before slipping out of the joke shop and pulling his invisibility cloak on as he set off down the street.

He had taken his Apparition test and gotten his license only yesterday. The twins, after assuring him that she would never reveal anything to anyone unless Harry agreed, had contacted Tonks and the Auror had promptly gotten permission from the DMLE Head herself to tutor Harry in the method of Apparition and Disapparition. To even Tonks' surprise, she was quite good at teaching and, this time to Harry's surprise, he had picked up Apparition within three weeks. Tonks had commented thoughtfully that perhaps his easy grasp of magic at the moment had something to do with having kept his magic dormant for seven years during his time in Azkaban. It would no doubt smooth out after a while, but Tonks advised him to learn as much as possible while his magic was still quite eager to be let out.

Five minutes later, Harry had Apparated straight into King's Cross Station onto Platform 9¾. With his cloak, he stood apart from the bustle of students and parents, letting his eyes wander to the scarlet train that had once seemed like a godsend to him, taking him away to a better life than the one he had had for ten years of his life.

His gaze dropped to a lone girl, short, small, and dark-haired, trying to heave a trunk and her owl through a train door without much success. Harry waited, glancing around for an approaching parent or sibling. When he found none after several seconds, he hesitantly tugged off his cloak, stuffing it away before weaving his way through the crowd and over to the little girl.

"Hi," He greeted, clearing his throat a little. His voice was still hoarse enough to make the girl jump. "Want some help?"

The girl flushed a little but agreed readily enough, smiling shyly up at him. Together, they heaved the trunk onto the train, tucking it away in a corner of the compartment before manoeuvring the owl cage onboard as well. The Pygmy Owl inside hooted at them in a disgruntled manner before ruffling its feathers and promptly turning its back on him. Harry had to fight down a nostalgic smile at the sight. Hedwig had been much the same.

"Thank you so much," The girl said earnestly.

Harry smiled at her, blinking when he thought he recognized something familiar in her face, but only shook his head and glanced around again. "No problem. Are you here alone?"

The girl shook her head, dark curls flying. "No, but Basil, my brother, he forgot his lunch so mum's gone to find him, and dad's running late." She stuck out a hand and, in that wide-eyed solemn way only children could manage, introduced herself. "I'm Lily. It's nice to meet you."

Harry's smile froze on his face, the name ringing in his ears. Clumsily, he clasped the tiny hand, shaking it carefully. "I'm Harry. Nice to meet you too, Lily." And then, because Lily was now peering curiously up at him, no doubt wondering about his stumble, added, "So this is your first year at Hogwarts then?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "I've been waiting forever!" She told him. "Ever since Aster started. He's my oldest brother."

Harry chuckled, the conversation easing the tension the little girl's name had caused. "So you have two brothers then?"

"Three," Lily made a face. "Aster, who's in seventh year, and then there's Briar, who's in fourth year, and Basil, who's a year above me." She pouted a little. "I hate being the youngest."

"Being youngest isn't so bad," Harry grinned down at her. "They must be very protective of you."

"They pick on me _all_ the time," Lily scowled and her previous smile faltered. "Aster's alright; he doesn't let Briar or Basil make fun of me too much, but they've all got their own friends and..." She trailed off, looking uncertain now. "I don't have any friends here."

Harry crouched down so he was at eye-level with the girl. "You know, I went to Hogwarts too, and when I first went, I didn't have any friends either," He revealed, and tried to forget all the years in between. He was trying to make the girl feel better, not worse. "But I made friends pretty quickly even though I wasn't sure I would, and we had a lot of fun together while we were at school."

"Really?" Lily was staring anxiously at him now. "Do you really think I'll make friends?"

"Definitely," Harry hesitated for a second before smiling a little awkwardly. "And... we're kind of friends already, aren't we?"

Lily beamed at him, and Harry wondered at the ease in which children accepted things. "Yeah, we are!"

"Exactly, and you haven't even left the station yet," Harry grinned again when Lily's light brown eyes brightened. Harry could swear he had seen them before.

He rose to his full height again, only to blink and turn when Lily's gaze strayed behind him and she started waving excitedly. "Dad! And Uncle Gideon too!"

Harry was very, very careful not to let his jaw drop. A detached part of his mind realized instantly why the little girl was so familiar to him as he looked up to meet two pairs of brown eyes.

He had never even seen a picture of Fabian and Gideon Prewett, but they could be no one else because their smiles reminded him of Molly Weasley and the mischievous gleam in their eyes reminded him of the twins.

Harry knew the exact moment the two men recognized them though, their eyes widening a fraction before becoming wary.

Harry's mouth thinned. He didn't want to cause a scene. There was a reason he had come under his invisibility cloak, and now he could only curse himself for the sense of sentimentality that had driven him into coming in the first place.

Turning quickly back to Lily, Harry offered one last smile to the little girl. "Good luck at Hogwarts, Lily. Work hard, and just be yourself. You'll make friends in no time."

Lily's answering grin was dazzling and Harry turned to leave, nodding curtly at the Prewett twins before hurrying away. Behind him, he heard Lily retell her meeting with him in great detail to her father and uncle before the crowd swallowed him, letting him slip away.

The Apparition point was filled with frazzled parents hurrying their children towards the train so Harry quickly veered off towards the barrier concealing the platform from the Muggle World. Without pausing, he plunged straight through, appearing in King's Cross Station a second later and proceeded to make his way through the throng of ignorant Muggles.

"Mr. Potter, wait! Please wait!"

Harry had almost made it out of the parking lot when hurried footsteps rushed up behind him, making him stiffen as he whirled around. Fabian or Gideon, he wasn't sure which, skidded to a stop a few feet away, his suit slightly mussed.

Harry briefly considered simply pulling on his invisibility cloak and making a run for it. It wasn't as if the man could catch him if he couldn't see him. Before he could make a conscious decision though, the Prewett twin spoke, anxiety edging each word.

"Look, it's pretty obvious you know who we are," Fabian or Gideon started. "But I need to know what you're going to do now."

Harry frowned, keeping a cautious eye out for the other twin. He didn't know what they would do if he didn't give a satisfactory answer. "Well, I was planning on leaving, actually," He swept the parking lot again. No Muggle train left at eleven; there were very few cars parked here and no people to speak of.

The Prewett twin didn't relax, one hand drifting casually to his suit. Harry mirrored the action, narrowing his eyes in warning.

"I'm not quite sure what _you're_ trying to do," Harry shot back flatly. "If you're worried about me revealing the fact that you and your brother are alive, don't be."

"Oh?" The man tilted his head in a considering manner. "And why not?"

Harry shrugged. "One: I don't particularly care that you're alive, or that you..." Damn, he thought his speech was getting better. "...apparently don't want to reveal this to your family. And two: I'm not exactly on speaking terms with anyone who _would_ care."

Silence answered him and Harry let his gaze flit briefly to the large clock above King's Cross Station. Eleven o'clock; if George had been serious, the twins would be coming after him right now.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" The Prewett twin suddenly asked. "I hear you're friends with my family."

Harry couldn't help the bitter smile that curved his lips. Judging by the startled expression on Fabian/Gideon's face, it wasn't a pretty expression. "I'm friends with the twins," Harry said simply.

Another set of footsteps approached and Harry quickly took several steps back, reaching into his cloak to grip his wand.

"Gideon, Heather's going to take the train back- What are you doing? I told you to ask him to wait, not scare him."

So the one he had been talking to was Gideon. Harry couldn't help but compare him with George. Both of them were quicker to blame and less forgiving than their twin when it came to defending someone or something.

Meanwhile, Fabian stepped up beside Gideon, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Gideon can be a bit rash. I'm Fabian, as you've probably already guessed. My daughter was singing praises about you."

"Was she?" Harry backed up another step. He may have taken out three Death Eaters a few weeks ago but he had had the element of surprise on his side. In a duel like this, and against two experienced wizards no less, Harry wasn't sure how long he would last, especially when it was two against one.

"Yes," Fabian said amicably. "Thank you for helping her with her trunk. It can get pretty hard for my wife with four kids."

Harry nodded curtly, and then whipped out his wand when Fabian took a step forward. The crowd on the platform had done him no favours and some of the discomfort from earlier was making him jumpy.

In front of him, Fabian's arm shot out when Gideon instantly went for his wand, staying his brother's arm with a warning look thrown in. When he turned back, Fabian quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm sorry if we gave you the impression that we wanted to Obliviate you or something. That's really not what we want to do. But we'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone that you saw us."

"I already told your brother," Harry flicked a look at Gideon. "I'm not on speaking terms with any of the Weasleys except Fred and George. I'm not going to lie to them; they've always been on my side. It would be wrong to lie after everything they've done for me." His gaze moved to look over Fabian's shoulder. "Though I suppose I won't need to anyway since they're here in person."

The Prewett twins stiffened before wheeling around, just as Fred and George hit the parking lot at a dead run. Both had their wands out and pointed, most likely having seen Harry with _his _wand out.

"Harry! Are you alright?" George shouted, levelling his wand at Gideon's stunned face. He obviously hadn't noticed just who he had at wandpoint yet.

"Wands on the floor, gentlemen," Fred ordered distractedly, still scanning Harry for signs of injury. "Harry, only you could get in trouble while making a trip to a train station."

Harry shrugged, circling around the Prewett twins as he approached Fred and George. "I'm fine. You might want to put down your wands though."

"Why?" George reached out to pull him behind them before turning back to the men in front of them. He froze, and then almost dropped his wand.

Fred _did_ drop his wand, and he scrambled to pick it up again before pointing it shakily at the Prewett twins. "Who are you?" He demanded hoarsely. "How _dare_ you use our uncles' faces?"

Fabian and Gideon exchanged a glance before sighing simultaneously. "We're not using anyone's faces, Fred," Fabian soothed. "We really are your uncles."

"Our uncles are dead!" George snapped harshly. "You're going to have to try better than that!"

Gideon closed his eyes while Fabian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, this is getting us nowhere. Look, Molly Prewett, or Weasley now, was our younger sister. She married Arthur Weasley and had seven children: Bill, Charlie, Percy, you two, Ronald, and Ginerva."

Gideon took over as the twins' features remained derisive. "Back during the first war, Fabian and I used to babysit you two. We taught you the prank with the rabbits, remember? Drove your mum mad. After we were caught, you two were sent to your room and Fabian and I were kicked out of the house. But we snuck the both of you out through your window and took you for ice-cream. Chocolate-chip with fudge, wasn't it? Molly was ready to strangle the both of us when we came back."

Fred and George had become so white that Harry was afraid they might faint. Both had lowered their wands and were staring at their uncles with wide, shocked eyes.

"But you're supposed to be dead," Fred finally whispered. "We attended your funeral. We-" His voice cracked and he quickly turned away, busying himself with tucking his wand back into his robes. George still hadn't said anything, but the shock was gone and his features had become expressionless instead.

Fabian ran a hand through his hair. "This isn't a good place to explain-"

"You can shove your explanation up your arse," George cut off roughly. Fabian and Gideon both looked taken aback. George just scowled darkly. "Fine, so you're our uncles, but that still doesn't excuse the fact that you left our family. I mean, what is it with you people? You two left, and Percy left, and our entire family left Harry to fend for himself. And while we're talking about Harry," His scowl deepened into a glare. "What were you doing threatening him anyway? Afraid he wouldn't keep your secret?"

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Fabian and Gideon both looked a little guilty while Fred said nothing to oppose his brother's words. Harry looked at all four of them and heaved a sigh.

"Knock it off, George," Harry nudged him as he tucked away his own wand. George blinked down at him. "They're your uncles, after all. At least give them a chance to explain."

He received twin looks of surprise from the Prewett twins and a subtly grateful look from Fred. George shot another glare at his uncles before nodding reluctantly and slipping his wand away as well.

"Great," Harry backed away a few steps and pulled out his invisibility cloak. "Take your time."

"What? Where are you going?"

Harry paused and stared back at the four redheads when he realized that all of them had said the same thing at the exact same time.

"Back to the joke shop," Harry replied dryly. "Like I wanted to ten minutes ago."

"You can't!" George blurted out.

Harry blinked at him. "Why not?" He asked slowly.

"Because we locked the door," Fred offered hastily.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You gave me a key, and even if you didn't, I'm sure a simple Unlocking Charm would let me in just as quickly."

"And we activated the wards before we left?" George told him. It sounded an awful lot like a question.

Harry stared first at George and then at Fred, and then glanced beyond them at the Prewett twins.

"Are you trying to tell me you want me to stay?" Harry guessed.

Fred and George shared a sheepish look. "We were-"

"-quite obvious," George finished. "So, yes please?"

Harry snorted but shrugged. "If no one minds."

For some reason, even Fabian and Gideon looked relieved.

**r.R.r**

Twenty minutes later, sitting in a dark corner of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Harry found out why. He had to force himself not to bang his head on the table as the two pairs of twins exchanged another round of guilty or angry looks. Apparently, his role in all this was mediator.

"This is ridiculous," Harry muttered, poking at his half-finished ice-cream that Florean had pushed on him the moment he recognized him. Harry was still somewhat puzzled that the man had seemed teary-eyed when he had caught sight of Harry.

"Alright, could one of you start talking?" Harry stared pointedly at the Prewett twins. "And you two," He turned to the Weasley twins. "Stop glaring at them. That's not helping anyone."

When no one made any move to do what he had told them to do, Harry shot a glare at both parties. "Seriously, hurry up or I'm leaving. I have to meet up with Tonks today."

This seemed to work on Fred and George at least, and their expressions eased after a few seconds, settling down grudgingly.

Fabian offered him a half-smile that Harry didn't return before opening his mouth to speak.

"We really were attacked by Death Eaters," Fabian explained. "And we managed to take down four before Dolohov almost killed us. But Bellatrix and some others arrived and ended up blowing up the area we were in. The force of the explosion knocked both of us out and when I woke up, we were in a Muggle Hospital. Gideon was- he was in a coma."

The silence was thick as Fred asked, "Why didn't you contact mum?"

Fabian's jaw tightened. "I had amnesia, Fred. I couldn't remember anything but my first name and Gideon. The Muggle police helped me get set up with a flat and some money, and then I found a job and waited for Gideon to wake up. I lived under the surname Purcell. Knew it had something to do with a 'P'."

"And I did," Gideon took up the story. "Wake up, that is. Obviously. Thing was, _I_ remembered everything. But by the time I came out of my coma, three and a half years had passed. The war was long over, and I had an amnesic brother on my hands." He paused, and then amended, "An amnesic brother with a Muggle fiancé. If we had simply shown up on Molly's doorstep like that, we would have scared her out of her wits. And Fabian not remembering anything about her would be like him dying all over again. It would've crushed her. So I thought we could wait. Just until Fabian got his memories back."

"I remembered everything two and a half years later," Fabian recalled gravely. "But by then, I was married and I had a kid. It was lucky Heather, my wife, accepted it easily enough, or I'd have been looking at a divorce." His smile turned fond. "She was quite fascinated by magic. Asked tons of questions about it, and when Aster, my oldest, started showing signs of accidental magic, she was ecstatic."

"So we were going to show ourselves to Molly then," Gideon continued, cutting Fabian off before he could go off on a tangent. "But, well, _six_ years. What would we say? And we just kept putting it off again and again, but the longer we waited, the harder it was. We saw her though, sometimes," He smiled wistfully. "That summer that Sirius escaped and everyone still thought he was a mass murderer; we went to Diagon Alley and followed you lot around for a while. That was actually the first time we saw Harry Potter all grown up." Gideon offered a tentative smile at Harry, faltering when Harry only looked back.

"We knew your parents, you see," Fabian added. "We were in the Order together so we were on pretty good speaking terms with them, especially your mother. She used to patch us up whenever we came back injured and Poppy was unavailable. It's partly the reason Heather and I named our daughter Lily. Heather loves flowers so all our children ended up with flower names, but we both agreed on Lily."

Harry lowered his gaze to his melting ice-cream. To be honest, he couldn't really remember his mother's face. Or his father's, to be honest, but he knew he looked a lot like him so it wasn't too far a stretch to imagine his face. The album hadn't been amongst the things the twins managed to grab though, so he couldn't check, and something had stopped him from asking about it.

"You still should've come back," George spoke up for the first time since they had sat down, a note of reproach replacing the previous anger. "Mum wouldn't have cared how long it had been. She missed you."

Gideon winced and Fabian scrubbed a hand over his face. "We realize that," Fabian admitted sombrely. "And ever since the war broke out, we've been stopping some raids as well. You know, preventing attacks on Muggles when we can. When the Burrow blew up, we thought- well, we thought the worst had happened. We went directly to Albus; he was the one who told us that you had all survived."

"Wait, wait," George straightened in his seat, eyes suddenly wild. "_Dumbledore_ knows you're alive?"

"Yes," Fabian frowned, expression confused. "We wanted to contact Molly right away, what with the war and all, but he told us that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters could use us against her or vice versa, especially with my children and wife. He said it was best to stay away and wait until the war was over."

"And you _believed_ him?" George looked outraged. "You didn't think that maybe with a husband who works in the Ministry and seven children all fighting against You-Know-Who, she _might _know a thing or two about keeping her mouth shut?"

The Prewett twins shared a bewildered look. "But Albus said-"

"_Forget_ what Dumbledore said!" George exploded, and Harry just managed to flick a Silencing Charm around them before he started shouting. "Don't _any_ of you have a _brain_? Why do you all listen to what that manipulative old fool says _every single time_? Can't you people think for yourself for once?"

The silence that followed was deafening at their table. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that George had been wanting to say something along those lines for a very long time.

And then, with a vicious curse that would have appalled Molly Weasley, George shot to his feet, chair skidding back with a clatter. Without another word, he stormed out of the Parlour, shoulders hunched with barely suppressed anger.

Fred had already risen halfway out of his chair, concern prompting him to follow, but he hesitated, glancing back at Harry and, rather childishly, deliberately ignoring his uncles.

Harry shrugged and waved a hand. "Go on. I'm not a child. I can get back by myself. Just make sure George doesn't turn anyone black and blue, and I don't mean as a prank."

Fred shot him an appreciative smile before hurrying after his brother, leaving Harry to deal with the Prewett twins.

Harry said nothing at first, frowning at his liquidized ice-cream before pushing the bowl away. He never really felt like eating much anymore.

"What- What did George mean?"

Harry glanced up at Fabian. The man's voice was unnaturally quiet.

"Dumbledore doesn't always do what's best for other people," Harry said at last. "Or at least he only does what _he_ thinks is best for his so-called 'greater good'."

"You're not very fond of him either," Gideon observed.

Harry snorted. "That's putting it mildly. I'd like to see you get along with someone who was responsible for placing you in Azkaban."

"Wait, what?" Gideon leaned forward. "Albus was the one who was working to get you out after the Ministry made another mistake."

Harry shot him flat stare. "Is that what they're saying?"

"The Prophet-"

Harry released a bark of mirthless laughter, cutting Gideon off. "If that's where you're getting your information from, you deserve to be lied to."

"They report some things that are true," Fabian defended. "We know half the things they print is absolute garbage, but the things it's been saying about the war has been relatively true."

"Well of course," Harry scoffed. "It's war. There's enough drama with all the fighting and killing that they don't have to make anything up."

Their table fell silent again and Harry absently traced the faded scratches on the worn wood in front of him.

"So George is angry because he blames Albus," Fabian spoke up again. "Then why are you so angry at Molly and the others?"

Harry didn't answer right away. As mad as he was at the Weasleys' betrayal, he had no right turning a family against each other. "Why don't you ask her?" Harry finally suggested, keeping his tone indifferent. He rose to his feet and threw on his travelling cloak. "There's no point continuing this conversation. Go find out for yourselves if you really want to know the truth. I've got things to do."

With that said, he pushed in his chair pulled down the Silencing Charm. With a sense of déjà vu, he heard Gideon call after him again.

"Er, Harry, wait."

Harry paused several steps away but didn't turn around. He did slip his hand into his cloak for his wand however.

"Sorry, about back at King's Cross, I mean. I didn't mean to come off like you had done something wrong."

Harry blinked, not quite expecting an apology. He glanced over his shoulder and observed the sincerity in Gideon's expression before nodding once. "S'alright."

And then he slipped away, blending in with the crowd outside as he made his way back to the joke shop.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-September 8****th****, 2002-**

"Here you go, Harry. Don't be too frustrated if you don't get it right away. Most people who can even do it take about half a year to a year before they manage it."

"Thanks Tonks, I'll keep that in mind," He peered at her grass-green hair. "Won't you get in trouble if you keep helping me?"

Tonks waved a hand. "Don't be silly. I've got Mad-Eye and Kingsley covering for me. And since when was it against the law to visit you?"

Harry shrugged but smiled a bit as Tonks tried to wave goodbye and leave the joke shop at the same time. Unsurprisingly, she tripped over the doormat and just managed to save herself by making a wild grab for the doorframe.

"See you later, Harry," Tonks called back.

Harry waved in reply before glancing down at the book Tonks had given him.

It read: _Becoming Animagi_.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-September 28****th****, 2002-**

By the time Molly managed to stop crying at their miraculous reappearance, Fabian and Gideon had heard the full story on Harry Potter.

Gideon's expression was wooden as he watched his twin comfort their sister. Thinking about it, he couldn't really blame Harry for disliking his family.

"So Albus can't get to Harry at the twins' shop?" Gideon asked.

It was Remus who answered. "No, nor can any other Order member. They're still willing to work with us for the war effort but they refuse to stay here."

"Can't blame them," Fabian muttered, and then looked mildly alarmed when Molly burst into fresh tears. "Oh, come on, sis, at least they still talk to you. It could be worse. They still consider you family."

Gideon idly thought his brother had been away from their sister for far too long because he was only digging himself into a deeper hole.

He glanced around the dark sitting room. It had taken nearly a month to catch Arthur on his way home without being noticed, but they had managed, and they had done it without Albus' consent or knowledge.

"But he can still come here, right?" Gideon gestured around him.

Arthur shrugged from where he was standing. "Harry isn't here anymore and no matter what happens, the Order presenting a united force is something that keeps the Death Eaters at bay. Remus finally managed to talk Sirius into allowing Albus entry again, but Sirius can barely stand being in the same room as the Headmaster. We try to keep the meetings as short as possible now."

Gideon glanced over at Sirius. The man he remembered Sirius to be had been happy-go-lucky and cheerful; this man was anything but. Then again, he supposed twelve years in Azkaban, three years on the run, wrongfully placing his godson in the same prison for seven years, and then finally _realizing_ just how wrong he was would change any man.

"You've seen him?" Sirius was now looking directly at him, tired eyes still sharp.

Gideon knew he meant Harry. He nodded carefully. "He seemed alright. A bit on the tired side, but all things considered, at least he was up and about."

Sirius nodded silently before departing from the sitting room without a backwards glance. Gideon didn't mind.

"We'll have to keep quiet about you two," Arthur spoke up again, this time to Fabian. "Your children are at Hogwarts at the moment, which places them directly under Albus."

Fabian nodded. "We'll just go back to what we've been doing. But we'll keep in touch when we can, of course," He added, and Molly gave him a watery smile.

"I can't believe you're married," Molly said, sniffing a little. "And _four_ children. I have three nephews and a niece and I didn't even know it." She turned sharply to Gideon. "And what about you? Are you getting married?"

Gideon blinked and quickly shook his head. "'Course not, sis. I'm a bachelor for life."

Molly scowled. "That's no way to live. You really should settle down."

Gideon sighed and leaned back as Molly continued her lecture. He had forgotten how much their sister liked to nag at them.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-October 31****st****, 2002-**

Harry lay gasping on the floor, magically drained after managing to hold his Animagus form for a measly two seconds. There was no way he would be able to try it again for a while, especially if it left him this exhausted.

He managed to pull himself up and prop himself against George's bed. His eyes fell on the mirror he had transfigured earlier.

Had he really seen correctly? He had been trying not to pass out so maybe he had been wrong. After all, an animagus like his would be... absurdly coincidental.

With a sigh, Harry heaved himself onto the bed and settled down for some sleep. If he was lucky, it would be tomorrow when woke up.

**r.R.r**

When he jerked awake from a panicked haze of half-remembered nightmares, the sun was only starting to set. Fred and George were still manning their shop and hadn't disturbed his sleep, no doubt guessing that he would want to be alone today.

Sitting up, Harry grimaced at the fatigue still weighing his limbs down but slid out of bed and pulled on his cloak. He needed to go for a walk.

Slipping out of the joke shop was easy enough and he wandered down the street, watching groups of people celebrating amongst themselves. Voldemort may be back, but today was still the day that the Dark Lord had been vanquished once.

Harry snorted and kicked a stone along the sidewalk. He paused outside the Leaky Cauldron. Well, why not? He was twenty-two. He wanted to get drunk. It was perfectly legal.

"Firewhiskey, please,"

Harry thanked Tom when the landlord came back with a bottle and a glass. The first gulp, true to its name, sent a trail of fire down his throat. Two glasses later, he was used to it.

He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed, but next thing he knew, a hand had swiped his bottle out of his reach and he was staring blearily up at a weary-looking George.

"Oh, Harry," George sighed, glancing to his left. It took Harry a moment to realize Fred was there as well and it had been him who had taken away his alcohol.

"Give't back," He slurred, reaching for the bottle in Fred's hand.

"I think you've had enough," Fred said firmly, shaking the bottle. "Did you drink the entire bottle by yourself? There's almost nothing left!"

Harry frowned a little. "'xactly. Give't back so I can fish- finsh- finish it."

"No," George reached out for his elbow. "We're getting you home. Come on, up you get."

Harry burbled a laugh at this. "No home! No home! Have no home! Voldie blew it up!"

George had an odd look on his face as he hauled Harry onto his feet. "You live with us now, Harry. The joke shop can be like home."

Harry just shook his head but stumbled to a stop when Fred moved to the side to let him pass and two familiar faces came into his line of sight.

"We had no idea where you were," Fred explained, noting his expression. "Dumbledore doesn't know, of course, but we had to ask the Order, and half of them insisted on coming out to search for you. Sirius and Remus found you and called us over."

Harry barely heard them, staring up at his godfather instead. The pain and anger were somehow dulled inside him, lurking at the pit of his stomach instead of surging upwards to get out.

Sirius looked pained as he looked back at Harry. His eyes were bloodshot and there were heavy bags under them. His brow was creased with worry and sleepless nights.

"Yur Sirius," Harry told him seriously and then laughed. That was a joke, wasn't it? Sirius had told it to him once, through a crackling fire. "Yur very Sirius," He said and laughed again, and somehow, his laughter turned to sobs, choked and confused.

"Wanted to live with you," Harry said, and even through his tears, he could see the flinch that wracked his godfather's body. "Wanted to live with you. You were my home. Would've come anytime you let me. You said you would; you said. Said you'd let me come live with you, I mean. You promished. Promised. You-"

He took a step forward and then staggered sideways, the pub spinning around him. In a distant, detached part of his mind, he noted the absolute silence around them.

A hand steadied him and it took him a moment to realize it was George again.

"Wanna go home," Harry told him, and his voice came out as timid as a lost child's. He looked around the room, studying each face. He looked closely at Fred and George, and then turned to look at Sirius and Remus.

And all he could feel was a deep sense of loss, because he didn't fit in here, not really, not anymore. The world was moving too fast and he honestly couldn't remember the reason he was even trying to fit in again.

He said as much aloud, and then he found himself grasped by the shoulders and shaken a little by a wild-eyed Sirius staring down at him, scared and desperate in equal measure.

"You don't mean that, Harry," His godfather rasped out. "You're just drunk. You'll feel better in the morning."

And Harry let himself be led out of the pub, stumbling every few steps as George supported most of his weight.

He didn't remember returning to the joke shop, or being tucked into bed. He didn't even remember when the darkness of shadowy nightmares dragged him under again, never allowing him a moment of peace.

**r.R.r**

"He's not alright, Moony," Sirius' voice was bleak as he sat outside the joke shop, body slumped against the wall of Harry's current residence. "Tonks said he looks alright, and Gideon said he looks alright, but _he's not alright_."

Remus usually tended to care a bit more than Sirius about where he sat (or ate, or slept, or even walked for that matter), but right now, he simply sprawled out beside his fellow Marauder, leaning his head back to stare up at the stars. It was a clear night tonight.

"...When we were back at school," Remus eventually spoke. "When it was the Marauders against the world, you'd never believe we could ever reach a point as low as this."

He couldn't quite hold back the self-loathing from entering his voice and he felt Sirius shudder beside him.

"I wonder what James would say?" Remus said absently. "Us turning against his only son." He released a ragged, bitter laugh. "I guess Wormtail wasn't the only traitor in our group."

The sound of a door swinging open interrupted them and they looked up to find Fred or George peering down at them.

"Go home," Fred told them half-heartedly.

Sirius was already halfway up. "Is Harry-"

Fred shrugged. "I suppose he's as well as-"

"No, no, don't!" Sirius staggered to his feet. "Don't say he's well or fine or alright! He's not!"

The temper all the Weasley children had inherited rose like an erupting volcano. One hand lashed out and smacked against the shop.

"Then why are you asking?" Fred snarled, exhaustion only fuelling his rage. "We all know he's not alright! He'll probably never be alright ever again! But damn you, he's trying! Sometimes he can't remember a word or stops talking right in the middle of a conversation because he can't remember what he was talking about in the first place! Sometimes he has to think before he can string together a sentence and the bastards out there!" He swept his other hand at the world in general. "Look at him like he's some kind of freak show, but he pretends it doesn't bother him! Sometimes he forgets to eat, or remembers and eats but only because he doesn't want to worry us and not because he's hungry! Sometimes he even forgets to sleep and other times he only pretends to sleep but can't because of the bloody nightmares! Some days are worse than others, but-!" His voice cracked on a dry sob, the strain of having to take care of Harry on his worst days filtering out into the open.

"But he's trying," Fred continued, quieter this time. "Most days, he tries so damn hard it's painful even just watching him. We're doing all we can, and he's doing all he can, so stop asking if he's _alright_ because he _isn't_, but he's _trying_. Are you satisfied, Sirius?"

The silence was terrible as Fred turned on his heel and disappeared back into the joke shop, the door closing behind him with a decisive snap.

Remus didn't bother looking at Sirius from his position on the floor. He had caught a glimpse of the ghost-like, shattered expression on his best friend's face and had no desire to see it again.

* * *

**Eleventh chapter done! Finished on a depressing note. Review, review, review!**


	12. And So Time Passes Part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter…**

**Note 1: Thanks once again to everyone who took the time to review!**

**Note 2: This chapter will be a lot like the last and will consist of another few months.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 12 – And So Time Passes (Part 2)**

_A hero is a man who does what he can. _

_-Romain Rolland_

* * *

**-November 1****st****, 2002-**

"Don't you two have anything better to do?"

Gideon, propping his head up with one hand and holding a cup of coffee with the other, leveled a contemplative look at his glowering nephew. "You know, I could swear you were never this temperamental. I thought that was Percy."

George glared at him. "People change," He snapped. "And don't compare me to Percy."

On the other side of the kitchen, standing near the sink, Fabian and Fred were watching their respective twin as they sipped their own coffee.

"Your brother's a lot moodier than he was as a child," Fabian remarked mildly.

Fred shrugged. "He's always been like that. It's just that no one's ever seen it because nothing's ever given him reason to _be_ this moody."

They fell silent for a moment as George tried to bully Gideon out the door again.

"Though I do have to agree with George;" Fred spoke again, turning a sharp eye on his uncle. "What are you doing here? I don't remember inviting either of you for breakfast."

"Are you sure?" Fabian enquired innocently. "Maybe you just had too much to drink and don't remember."

Fred scowled at him. "Harry's the one who was drinking; not us. Look, you want to spend time with family, go ahead. You know where mum is and I'm sure Bill, Charlie, and Percy would be glad to see you."

"We don't mind staying here," Gideon called from the dining table.

George immediately jumped in. "We do. Look, with all due offence, leave. Now's not a good time for a social call."

Fabian and Gideon exchanged a look but made no move to go anywhere.

"You're still quite angry at us," Fabian observed.

"That's some great detective work there," George retorted, sarcasm thick in his voice.

"And," Gideon continued as if George hadn't spoken. "For some reason, you don't want us to be here when Harry wakes up."

This time, George didn't reply, jaw tightening as he glanced behind him at the kitchen door.

Fred spoke up instead, an edge of annoyance entering his voice. "If you know that, why exactly are you still here?"

Fabian shrugged. "We want to see Harry."

"Why?" George instantly challenged, a flare of suspicion lighting his eyes. "Come to take him to Dumbledore?"

Even Fabian looked irritated at that. "George, give us a little credit, won't you? Now that we know what he's done, we're hardly going to hand Harry over to him."

George didn't look the slightest bit apologetic but the antagonism in his features did ease somewhat. "Then why do you want to see Harry?"

Fabian sighed and reached into his robes to pull out a slightly crumpled letter. Fred and George both leaned forward, bemused.

"My daughter," Fabian explained. "I believe she wants to thank Harry for helping her and giving her some advice before she headed off to Hogwarts, but her owl couldn't find him so she sent it to me and asked me to pass it along."

"Your _daughter's_ writing to Harry?" George asked, incredulous. "They knew each other for, what, ten minutes?"

Fabian shrugged, smoothing out the letter. "I haven't read what she wrote to him but Lily was quite taken with him at the train station. I promised her I'd pass her letter on to Harry when she found out I knew him."

"Okay, fine," George crossed his arms. "I get why you're here, but what is _he_ doing here?" He shot a hard look at Gideon. "Don't tell me you've got a letter for Harry too."

Gideon only leaned back, placing his mug on the table as he stared back at George. "Why in the world do you hate me so much, George?" His voice was still mild but his eyes were expressionless as he waited for his nephew's answer.

George's glare faltered for a moment before he muttered crossly, "I don't hate you. The only people I hate are You-Know-Who and Dumbledore."

"Then you dislike me very much, at least right now anyway," Gideon countered. "Why?"

George's glare came back full force. "Why do you think?" He seethed. "That day in the parking lot; what exactly were you going to do if Fred and I hadn't come when we did? I saw where your hand was; you were going to pull your wand on Harry! Were you going to Obliviate him? Or maybe knock him out and deliver him to Dumbledore so he'd handle it for you?"

Gideon looked like he had just been punched in the face and Fabian straightened from his relaxed slouch. "I wouldn't have let him," Fabian interjected quietly. "And I'm quite sure Gideon wouldn't have hexed Harry right then and there anyway."

"Hurting him wasn't my intention," Gideon explained. "I just wanted to be careful. I would never have hurt him without good reason."

"Harry had you both at wandpoint," George hissed stubbornly. "He'd never pull a wand on anyone unless he thought he was in danger."

"I was jumpy from being surrounded by so many people on the platform," A new voice interrupted. "And Mr. Prewett already apologized."

Harry staggered into the kitchen, one hand clutching his head. George all but leapt to his side, helping him into a chair as Fred rushed over with water and a potion.

"For hangovers," Fred gestured at the vial. "First time drunk; you must be feeling terrible."

Harry mumbled something unintelligible before downing the potion and then the water. He sighed in relief when the potion kicked in a few seconds later.

"So what's going on?" Harry lifted his head, gaze flitting from one person to the next. "Actually, could someone tell me what happened yesterday?"

Fred and George exchanged wary looks. "Er, what do you remember?"

Harry frowned, rubbing his forehead. "Not much," He said, and then let out a mirthless chuckle. "Then again, that's nothing new."

The tension in the kitchen spiked and Harry waved a hand. "Sorry; morbid humour. Er, I was at the Leaky Cauldron. Ordered some firewhiskey, but someone…" He squinted at Fred and then at George. "Fred took it away from me. You know, I paid for that. The least you could do was let me finish it."

Fred scowled at him. "Your first time drinking and you downed almost an entire bottle of Ogden's finest. Were you _trying_ to give yourself alcohol poisoning?"

Harry shrugged carelessly. Apparently, he still wasn't awake enough to censor some of his words because he replied almost thoughtlessly, "It was October 31st. Everyone was too bloody happy. I just wanted to-"

His brain finally seemed to catch up with his mouth because he cut himself off abruptly, gaze dropping to the empty water glass still clutched in his hands.

Fred and George looked to be trying very hard not to think about the end of that sentence in too much depth while Fabian and Gideon watched on, silent but pensive.

"Well, you got pretty drunk," Fred finally answered. "George and I went out to look for you for about three hours but we couldn't find you so we floo-called Grimmauld Place for help. Sirius and Remus found you and got us, and then we took you home."

Harry nodded absently, swiveling the glass between his hands.

"You were getting a bit depressing near the end," George suddenly blurted out.

Harry glanced up at him. "Yeah? Guess we know what kind of drunk I am now. I'll make sure not to do it at a party."

No one so much as cracked a smile. An uneasy silence followed before Fred spoke up, looking nervous. "You sounded a little… well, just near the end, I mean, you were starting to sound, well, suicidal." The last word was barely above a mumble, rushed as if saying it aloud might make it real.

Harry's hands stilled as Gideon jerked a little in his seat and Fabian shifted from foot to foot by the sink.

"Don't be stupid," Harry rose to his feet again, a slight smile obviously meant to reassure on his face. "I'm not turning into some pansy suicide case. Now, I should probably get changed. It's almost ten in the morning."

A moment later, he had escaped out the kitchen, leaving two pairs of twins staring after him.

"He remembers," Fred finally sighed, dropping into the seat Harry had vacated. "Merlin, why couldn't he be a forgetful happy drunk?"

**r.R.r**

"So is this where you spend your afternoons then?"

Harry glanced up at the friendly voice, blinking at Fabian as he approached, shaking water from his hair. He said nothing when the man sat down a few feet away. The bench was wide enough to accommodate both of them. Instead, he returned to staring listlessly out at the pouring rain, listening to the low drone of raindrops against the wooden roof above him.

"Not always," Harry eventually replied. "But Muggle buses don't come by this route on Fridays so there're no people either. It's peaceful."

Fabian made a sound of agreement, and they spent the next few minutes in surprisingly companionable silence.

A rustle drew Harry's attention away from the dark sky and he frowned a little when Fabian offered him a moderately thick piece of parchment.

"What's this?" Harry accepted it and slowly unfolded it.

"It's from Lily," Fabian explained. "She wanted to write to you but her owl couldn't find you so she sent it home and asked me to pass it on."

Harry looked up briefly, catching a small smile on Fabian's face before turning back to the letter.

_September_ _4th__, 2002 _

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm not sure if you still remember me, but I met you at the train station on September first. I just wanted to thank you again for helping me with my trunk, and I remembered what you told me about just being myself, and it worked! I've made a few friends at Hogwarts, Annie and Charlotte (who likes to be called Char), and all of us are in Gryffindor! Dad and Uncle Gideon were really happy about that; they used to be in Gryffindor too but they don't really talk about it. It's kind of an unspoken rule that we're not really supposed to ask too much on that, though I don't know why. Aster and Basil are both in Ravenclaw though, and Briar's in Hufflepuff, so I'm the only one of the four of us who went to Gryffindor._

_Classes here are really interesting. My favorite is Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall is strict but clever; was she like that for you too? In our first class, she turned from a cat back into human and transfigured all our desks into birds before transfiguring them back! I really wanted to learn how to do that, but McGonagall started us on the basics first. We learned how to turn a matchstick into a needle and Annie and I managed it by the end of class. We taught Char how to do it later in the Common Room._

_The food here is great. I love my mum's cooking, but everything here is so good. My favorite is treacle tart (they have plenty! At home, Daddy or Uncle Gideon buy them only about once every two months.), but Annie says it's only okay and Char doesn't like it at all._

_What House were you in? What was your favorite class? What did you like to eat most? _

_I hope you don't mind me writing to you, and I hope you write back as well. I told Annie and Char about you and they say hello. I'll end the letter here though because Char tells me I'm just rambling now._

_Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_Lily_

Harry stared at the signature for a long moment before shuffling it underneath the rest and studied the next.

_September 15th, 2002_

_Dear Harry,_

_Hello again! I know it's quite soon since the last letter, but Athena, my owl, couldn't find you, so I thought I'd just write one more and send them both home so that Daddy could give it to you. I didn't know you knew my dad, but when I wrote to him, I asked him why Athena couldn't find you and he said that you're living in a place with protection around it. Are you alright? You're not in any trouble, are you?_

_Anyway, Daddy said he could give my letters to you, so that's why I sent them to him instead._

_We had our first flying lesson a few days ago. Our classes were with the Slytherins and all of them are Purebloods so they already knew how to fly. They kept laughing at us all through class and some of the boys from Gryffindor almost started a fight._

_I don't think I really like flying. Aster, Briar, and Basil all play for their Quidditch teams so Daddy bought them their own brooms. Aster is Chaser and the Captain of the Ravenclaw team, Briar plays Keeper, and Basil just joined his team as Beater. None of them ever let me practice with their brooms, especially because my mum is worried I'd fall, but I really wish they had. I managed to get a few feet into the air, but I was really shaky and Madame Hooch looked disappointed when I got back to the ground. I think she hoped I'd be good at Quidditch like my brothers. I hear they were her favorite students back when she taught them how to fly._

_Char is pretty good though, and Annie's alright too, but I'm a little afraid of heights so I don't know about playing Quidditch. Don't tell Daddy or Uncle Gideon but I think they're going to be disappointed in me; they used to be Beaters on the Gryffindor team and I bet they're hoping I get on the team as well._

_I'm not so good at flying, but I'm pretty good at schoolwork. Basil and Briar tease me for being in the library so much but I remember their marks from first year and I'm pretty sure I'll get better than they do. Mum was really pleased when I told her I was picking up the basics pretty easily. Transfiguration is still my favorite, but Charms is interesting as well. I'd like Potions too but Professor Snape is _really_ scary. He's so mean to the Gryffindors all the time and he really favors the Slytherins. He picked on Annie the second day because her potion turned the wrong colour and he almost made her cry. Char and I defended her though and we each lost ten points because of it. I haven't told Mum or Dad. The boys, especially Briar and Basil, lose points all the time, but they're _boys_ and they don't have as much to worry about._

_Oh, Char wants to ask you if you know where the kitchens are. (I've told her they're off-limits but she doesn't care about stuff like that. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her. She's really tough and doesn't let anyone bully her, or me or Annie.) And Annie's gone and tried to look you up in the student archives but she couldn't find you in any of the graduating classes for the past ten years. Are you older than that (you don't have to answer that if you don't want to) or did she miss your name? There's no Harry at all in any of the yearbooks._

_I'll stop here now; it's almost midnight and we have Potions (blegh!) in the morning._

_Bye for now,_

_Lily_

Harry flipped through the last two letters, noting the dates on each of them (October 1st and October 20th). Folding up the four letters again, Harry looked up and found Fabian still lounging beside him, observing him intently.

"Is it alright if I write back to her, Mr. Prewett?" Harry asked quietly. He should probably get permission first. After all, he was the recently freed, probably crazy, half-uneducated wizard who had gotten drunk out of his mind only yesterday.

Fabian shot him an amused look. "One: don't call me Mr. Prewett. Fabian is fine, and it's 'Gideon' for my brother. And two: I'm quite sure my daughter would find it very hard to forgive me if I refused to let you write back."

Harry shrugged, carefully tucking the letters into his cloak. "You heard about yesterday, Mr. Prew- Fabian. I'm not entirely well. You should probably think harder on whether or not you want your daughter in contact with someone like me."

"A kind man who helped my daughter get her trunk onto the train and relieved her of some of her worries about going to Hogwarts; worries that she'd probably never tell me or her mother because of her brothers." Fabian's eyes were warm when Harry met his gaze again. "And even though it was an accident, you helped my brother and I get back in touch with our family. I have no reservations about you exchanging letters with Lily."

Harry remained silent for a long minute, staring blankly out at the grey landscape. "You're a lot like Fred," Harry said, but didn't clarify when he felt Fabian's gaze on him again.

"Well, he was named after me," Fabian agreed easily.

"And your brother and George are a lot alike," Harry found himself relaxing when he caught Fabian's interested expression.

"Both a bit on the rash side," Fabian nodded. "You knew Fred and George pretty well during school, didn't you?"

Harry nodded a little, crossing his legs on the bench. "Yeah, they were pretty protective back then too. Never pranked me again after that one time in my third year. I paid them back in full," He added with a rare grin.

Fabian's eyebrows rose and he grinned back, recognizing a prankster's smile when he saw one. It made him wish he had known this man before the years of solitude of betrayal had stripped away most of what had made Harry Potter in his teenage years.

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime," Fabian said. "What was each of them like? Fred told me you could always tell them apart."

"Fred was more laidback of the two," Harry dredged up the memories he had of Hogwarts. There were still parts missing but he could remember some of them. "They were both pretty laidback, but there were a few times when George would get visibly angry while Fred would stay calm."

Harry paused and found a rapt audience in Fabian. Shifting a little to face him, Harry continued, "There was this one Quidditch game during my second year. A house-elf made one of the Bludgers come after me-"

"What? Why?" Fabian looked somewhat bewildered.

Harry waved a hand. "Long story. I'll tell it another time. Anyway, I got a bit… reckless and took Oliver's words to heart-"

"Who's Oliver?"

"Our Captain. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, got his father to buy the best brooms for the entire Slytherin team and Oliver got a little emotional over it. Well, he's always emotional when Quidditch is involved, but he told me to get the Snitch or die trying."

"_What_?" Fabian looked alarmed. "And no one said anything about it?"

"Well," Harry shrugged. "I'm pretty sure no one else took him seriously. But the rogue Bludger came after me and Fred and George wouldn't leave me alone with it so the other Bludger was throwing everyone else's game off and I couldn't catch anything with the twins flying around me. We called for a time-out and the others tried to convince Oliver to ask for an inquiry," Harry smiled a little at the memory. "It was strange seeing Fred trying to get Oliver to see reason, and George was furious. He blamed Oliver for putting the 'die trying' idea in my head and almost punched him when Oliver told them to leave me alone."

Fabian shook his head. "I wouldn't blame him. I've known you for two months and I can already tell that's not the best thing to say to you."

Harry blinked at him for a moment. Fabian was being sincere.

"After that," Harry continued slowly. "I caught the Snitch but my arm was broken and I guess I lost consciousness for a moment because next thing I knew, I was on the ground with Lockhart standing over me. It was a nightmare."

"Lockhart? Gilderoy Lockhart? That idiotic-looking writer?"

Harry's mouth quirked up into a smile. "That's the one. Dumbledore hired him as the DADA professor."

Fabian scoffed. "He's a complete fool!"

"Which one?" Harry asked dryly.

Fabian grinned. "Both."

Harry chuckled, the sound foreign but genuine. "Well, Lockhart tried to fix my arm but ended up vanishing all the bones in it instead."

Fabian looked horrified. "Those are two different spells! How can _any_ self-respecting wizard botch that?"

"Well that's the thing; Lockhart never really had any self-respect."

Fabian laughed. "That I can believe. But I would've thought Fred and George would've stopped him."

"Oh, they were fighting with the rogue Bludger," Harry recalled the brief glimpse of the twins wrestling the tampered Bludger back into its case. "By the time they had managed that, it was too late. They got him back for it later though," Harry added with a small smile. "Vanished all his hair-care products and charmed his hair so that it would always do the exact opposite of what he wanted. Lasted for two weeks. Lockhart called in sick."

Fabian laughed again, amusement shining in his eyes. "I would've paid to see that. His hair was always ridiculously perfect whenever I saw him at a book-signing. He disappeared though. Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Oh, he's in St. Mungos now, probably."

Fabian blinked. "St. Mungos? What on earth did you do to put him there?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry denied. "He did it to himself. We- I mean, er, Ron and I, we found out he was a fraud who Obliviated the people who actually did the things in his books and took credit for it all himself. He tried to Obliviate us with Ron's wand but it wasn't working properly and backfired on him."

"And that's why he's in St. Mungos," Fabian finished, before his expression turned somber. "About that; was that why you were so agitated in the parking lot that time?"

Harry shrugged, glancing out at the rain. "Not really. But I can't- I can't be around lots of people for too long. I get… jumpy."

Fabian nodded and said nothing more. Harry patted the letters in his cloak before rising to his feet. "Well, if you really don't mind, I'd like to write a letter to Lily now. She's probably been waiting for a reply for quite a while."

Fabian stood up and smiled as well. "I'll walk back with you, if you don't mind. George and Gideon have been left alone for too long. They might've started hexing each other by now."

Harry offered a half-smile at that and the two Apparated to Diagon Alley before making their way back to the joke shop.

"One last thing, Harry," Fabian stopped him right outside the shop, eyes unusually stern. "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Earlier, you said 'Ron and I' and it sounds like you two had some adventures at school. You two were close friends?"

Harry's hand closed on the handle of the back door. He couldn't quite help the bitterness that twisted his mouth. "I thought we were." He said with harsh condemnation. Without another word, he disappeared inside, leaving a frowning Fabian in his wake.

**r.R.r**

Harry could only gape at the window as he stepped into the bedroom, wondering if he had finally started having hallucinations of some sort. An amused hoot snapped him out of his daze and he scrambled across the room to give his faithful owl a hug.

"Hedwig! I thought- after two months- I thought you had left for good!"

Hedwig ruffled her wings a little, blinking at him in a stern manner, and Harry knew he was being reprimanded.

"Yes, yes, I should've known better, but _seven years_, Hedwig!"

Hedwig hooted again and nipped his ear affectionately. Harry grinned, stroking her feathers gently. "You're the best owl in the world, you know." He pulled back to study her carefully. "You look well-fed. Been hunting a lot then?"

Hedwig hooted an agreement before taking off into the air, circling once around the room before landing on top of the closet in the far corner. Without further ado, she tucked her head under a wing and made it quite clear to Harry that she was going to sleep.

Harry shook his head, still smiling softly. "You've had a long journey then? And that attitude's still intact even after all these years."

The door suddenly opened and Harry glanced over to see Fred walk in, looking wearily resigned. He stopped when he caught sight of Hedwig, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"She came back!" Harry told him brightly.

Fred grinned, still looking a bit incredulous. "Knew she would eventually, but how did she bypass the wards? They're set against owls too or we'd be flooded with your fan-mail."

Harry just grinned proudly. "Hedwig can get past any wards. She's special."

"I don't doubt that," Fred agreed, though he was eyeing Harry speculatively instead, an odd look of relief painting his features. "You look a lot happier."

Harry blinked, but before he could say anything, Fred had turned away and thrown himself onto his bed. "Well, I think Hedwig's got the right idea. I'm going to take a nap. Maybe when I wake up, George and Uncle Gideon will have stopped trying to bite each other's head off."

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-November 2****nd****, 2002-**

_November 2nd, 2002_

_Hello Lily,_

_First of all, I'd like to apologize for the long wait you've had to go through for my reply. Your father was a bit busy and couldn't contact me until yesterday. I do hope you don't think I didn't want to write to you._

_It sounds like you're having quite a lot of fun at Hogwarts. Congratulations on getting into Gryffindor! I was in Gryffindor house as well, and it sounds liking you're fitting in pretty well._

_McGonagall has always been strict but she cares for her lions very much, and even though she doesn't show it, she's always delighted to find enthusiastic students in her classes. If you like Transfiguration so much and find your current classes relatively easy, try talking to McGonagall about it. She might let you study something more advanced. She did that for a friend of mine when I was still in school._

_My favorite class… Well, to be honest, I liked the things I learned that were related to Defence Against the Dark Arts, though I can't say I actually liked the classes themselves. I'm sure you've heard of the curse placed on the DADA position? No teacher has ever stayed for more than one year, and only my third year professor was ever any good. I usually studied by myself when it came to that class and managed to pick up quite a few useful spells, especially during my fourth year._

_I don't blame you for disliking Potions. Snape has always been like that. The best thing to do is try not let him get to you, no matter what he throws at you, though I'm a bit of a hypocrite for saying so. He and I never did get along back when I was at school. Twenty points is nothing, and at least you made it to your second class before Snape started docking points from you. I was losing points five minutes into my first Potions class._

_Getting points taken off is completely normal. You'd have a pretty boring school life if you did everything by the book. I'm sure your parents would never get angry at you for something like that. Besides, I think defending a friend is far more important than house points, so as far as I'm concerned, you and Char did the right thing._

_As for the food, I really loved treacle tarts too. It was my favorite dessert at Hogwarts, though one of my friends didn't like it and the other didn't care either way. He liked food, period._

_It's alright if you don't like flying. It sounds like you're plenty smart, and you'll find your own things to be good at. And just ignore the Slytherins; they never seem to have anything better to do than jeer at Gryffindors. Personally, I love flying. I used to be Seeker for my team, and I'd like to think I was quite good at it too. If you still feel shaky come summer, maybe you could invite me over and I could give you a few tips (with your parents' permission of course)._

_Now, just because your dad and uncle were Beaters and Quidditch nuts, they'd never be truly disappointed in you for liking something different. I've never had parents myself but I'm quite sure that they could never be disappointed in their own child when she tries her very best._

_Annie and Char sound like wonderful friends; please say hi to them for me. Tell Char that the kitchens are right under the Great Hall. To get in, here's a hint: find the portrait of a bowl of fruit and pay extra attention to the pear. You'll get in if you think on it a bit!_

_As for Annie, well, it's perfectly understandable that she hasn't found me, simply because I never graduated. I only ever finished my fourth year at Hogwarts before certain circumstances forced me to drop out of school. Please don't ask too much about this, though tell Annie for me that she's welcome to ask me anything else._

_You mentioned earlier about your owl not getting through. The protection I'm under is mostly just because of the war. You don't have to worry about me; I'm always careful, and there's no immediate danger. Thank you very much for worrying though._

_If, after reading my many ramblings on parchment, you still wish to write back, send any letters you have with Hedwig, my owl, and she'll find me without problem._

_On one last note, I would appreciate it if you kept our correspondence quiet. This too has something to do with the protection I am under and it wouldn't do for too many people to find out I have outside contact with other people. I would be very grateful for this._

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Harry_

Harry squinted at the letter. He had never really written to anyone other than Hermione and Ron. Was the letter too long? But he had spent the rest of yesterday trying to come up with a decent letter. He thought this one would do.

"Hedwig," Harry called, folding the letter. "Deliver this to Lily, alright? And make sure to give it to her in her room, not the Great Hall. I can't have Dumbledore recognizing you."

Hedwig, as always, understood, and with a hoot of acknowledgement and a flap of her wings, she glided away into the night, ghost-like in the dim moonlight.

"Finally finished?" George yawned from the bed closest to the door. "It's a letter to a little girl; I don't understand why you need seven drafts before finally sending it off."

Harry flushed a little but ignored the redhead in favor of putting away his quill and ink and rolling into bed. He hoped Lily would write back, even after learning that he had not finished his education. It was embarrassing to admit, even on parchment, and he hoped Lily's opinion of him wouldn't lessen too much.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-November 3****rd****, 2002-**

"Ooohh, Lily, look! She's beautiful!"

Lily glanced up at Annie's excited voice, and then blinked when she saw a Snowy Owl hovering outside their window.

"Whose is she?" Char offered the owl a treat as Lily carefully untied the letter attached to her leg.

Quickly unfolding it, her eyes widened and she exclaimed, "It's Harry! He finally sent something back!"

There was a mad scramble for her bed as Annie and Char both tried to peer at the letter at the same time, resulting in a cracking of skulls as they leaned in.

"Ouch!" Char rubbed her head but didn't stop examining the parchment. "Well, read it out, Lil!"

Lily grinned and did so. They had been waiting for a reply ever since she had sent Athena off with her first letter. As each day passed with no answer even after Lily had sent her letters to her father, the three of them had gotten more and more anxious. After all, according to Lily's father, Harry was under protection. What if something had happened?

"So he's alright then," Char flopped back into her own bed, legs swinging as she laid on her stomach. "That's a relief. I was beginning to think he got himself killed or something."

"Char!" Annie looked reproachfully at her. "Don't say that! And I can't believe you told him I looked him up, Lily!"

"You told me to!" Lily protested, carefully flattening the letter on her dresser table.

"Not like that!" Annie huffed, bouncing a little on the bed. "You could've phrased it better."

Lily just rolled her eyes and turned back to the letter. "Well, Harry just asked us not to ask about it again, so we won't."

"He told us where the kitchens are," Char said with a quick grin. "Let's go down later and check it out."

Lily just sighed good-naturedly as Annie launched into a lecture about breaking rules while Char simply rolled over and listened with half an ear. She glanced back down at the letter and smiled to herself. She still wasn't really sure if Harry was _that_ Harry, but she had, of course, heard the stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. There were other names for him too; before Harry Potter had been cleared, she had heard people whisper about the next Dark Lord, and then afterwards, everyone referred him as the poor man or their Saviour returned, and the anger and fear from before had changed into pity and understanding.

None of that really fitted the person Lily had met on Platform 9¾ though, which was the main reason she wasn't sure if they were one and the same. The Harry she knew had looked tired and wary, but he didn't look like he wanted pity. When he had spoken to her, he had seemed almost as nervous as she had been, as if afraid she wouldn't want to talk to him in return.

So Lily had written to him, and even though it had taken two months to get a reply, she was glad he had finally done so. Harry hadn't written off her worries either. She had skipped those parts when she had read it aloud to Annie and Char, but now she went over them again greedily. Harry didn't tease her like her brothers would, giving her advice and reassuring her instead. She resolved to try harder at flying; when she invited Harry over, she wanted to at least be able to fly moderately well.

"Hey Lily, do you think Harry would mind if Iwrite to him as well?" Char asked, already rummaging for a quill. "I want to tell him about the secret passages I've found so far. Maybe he'll give me a hint about the one in the Whomping Willow."

"That's just a myth, Char," Lily reminded, passing over one of her own quills when it became obvious Char wasn't going to find one of her own anytime soon.

"All myths have a basis of truth," Char retorted, pulling out fresh parchment. "I'll ask him anyway."

"Do you think he'd mind me writing too?" Annie had produced her own quill and was now twirling it in her fingers.

"Of course not," Lily assured. "He even said he as much."

Annie nodded decisively. "Good, then I want to ask him about Defence. The theory's alright but the practical aspect is always harder and Professor Melburn goes over everything so fast."

Lily hmm'ed absently and started on her own letter. She could ask him about-

A knock at the door made all of them look up and Beth from one room over stuck her head in. "Lily, Lucas is downstairs asking where you are. Something about missing you at breakfast."

Lily rolled her eyes, irritation only mounting when she noted the blush on Beth's cheeks.

"Tell Ashford I'm not up here," Lily ordered. "Say I'm at the library or something. He better not still be there by the time I go down."

Beth shrugged and ducked out again, obviously eager to go back to talk to Lucas.

As the door swung shut, Lily scowled at nothing in particular. "Why can't he just leave me alone? He's so annoying and he's _never_ serious. I swear, one of these days, he's going to get himself expelled blowing up Snape's office or something."

Annie and Char just exchanged glances and said nothing. Personally, they didn't have anything against Lucas Ashford, but then again, they weren't the ones he tried to talk to on a daily basis.

Lily went back to her letter, quickly scribbling down the date before launching into a rant. Harry would understand. Perhaps he'd even be able to give her some advice on how to get rid of aggravating boys who insisted on following her around every other day.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-December 20****th****, 2002-**

"Gideon, why couldn't you have taken Fred and George instead?"

"Because someone in Albus' pocket could see them and because George can hold a grudge like no one else. He wouldn't have come if I had begged him. And because Lily wants to see you, not them."

"She doesn't even know she has cousins, or I'd think she'd want to see them very much."

"Well, she doesn't, and the way things are going, she won't know anytime soon. Besides, Fabian promised Lily that you'd be there."

"And no one told _me_ that I was going to be there because…?"

"Well I thought Fabian had told you and Fabian thought I had told you. Miscommunication."

"I bet," Harry finally dug in his heels when Gideon attempted to plow them straight through the crowd of people surrounding one of the Apparition points in Diagon Alley. "Let go, Gideon. I'm not going through that."

Gideon quickly released him, realization striking him as he watched Harry shuffle away from the thickest throng of people.

"Sorry," He ran a hand through his hair. "I forgot."

Harry shrugged, dusting some snow off his cloak. "Come on, follow me."

Gideon watched him go and then hurried to catch up as Harry veered off down a side street. "Where are we going?"

Harry didn't say anything until they slipped into Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and Florean himself came out to greet them, looking surprised.

"Harry! Come for some ice-cream? Most people don't during the winter."

"No, not today," Harry gestured at the back room. "We need to get to King's Cross to meet some kids and the Apparition platform is filled with people. May we use yours?"

Florean waved them through. "Of course, of course. You don't even need to ask. If I don't see you before, have a Merry Christmas!"

"You too, Florean," Harry offered a slight smile before Apparating away, Gideon a moment after him.

"Most people boast of friends in high places, even if they're not always useful," Gideon shook his head, looking amused. "You have friends in useful places, even though they're not very high up."

Harry shrugged. "The ordinary is usually the best kind."

Gideon eyed him curiously. "Which is?"

Harry waved a hand. "Honest."

Gideon blinked before huffing a laugh. The more time he spent with Harry, the more he liked him. He honestly had no idea how most of his family could mistake this man for a murderer.

"Gideon! Harry!"

They both turned to find Fabian striding towards them, a woman with sleek dark curls and blue eyes walking beside him.

"Glad you could make it," Fabian greeted.

"I wasn't aware I had much choice," Harry countered dryly.

Fabian just laughed and turned to the woman beside him. "This is Heather, my wife. Heather, this is Harry."

Heather smiled warmly and Harry immediately saw Lily in that one action. The woman extended a hand and Harry grasped it firmly.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Heather told him. "My husband and daughter are always telling me about you."

"You make it sound like I talk about nothing else," Fabian grumbled good-naturedly.

Harry just smiled politely, feeling a little awkward. He had never been good at interacting with people he didn't know. Children were alright; they were good at not judging too harshly, and Fabian and Gideon were too much like Fred and George to not feel comfortable around.

"There's the train now," Gideon pointed, perhaps sensing Harry's discomfort.

Minutes later, children were pouring from the Hogwarts Express, bright-faced and smiling as they were greeted by their parents. Harry tried not to feel too wistful as he listened to chattering children telling their mothers and fathers about anything and everything under the sun.

"Mum! Dad!"

A moment later, a dark blur flashed by, flying into Heather's already open arms.

"Hello sweetheart," Heather hugged her daughter as three other boys walked up, two with red hair and the third with locks as dark as Lily's.

Harry took a few steps back as he watched the family greet each other, the boys with a brief hug each for their mother. He wondered, just for a split second, what it would've been like if his parents had never been killed. Would James and Lily have greeted him with just as much enthusiasm? And perhaps he'd even have siblings to ride the train back with and banter with.

He shook his head and adjusted the cloak he had worn to blend in with the rest of the crowd. This time of year was making him unreasonably sentimental.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at the tentative voice, meeting familiar brown eyes peering up at him. He quickly fixed a small smile on his face. "Hello Lily. Looking forward to Christmas?"

Lily beamed at him as if she hadn't expected Harry to be so nice when they met again. "Yup! I've already decided what I'm going to get everyone; now I just have to go shopping over the weekend!"

"So you're Harry?" One of the red-haired boys with his mother's blue eyes interrupted.

Lily immediately wheeled around with a fierce glare. "Don't be so rude, Basil! Would it kill you to say hello?"

This immediately set off a round of bickering and the oldest brother took this time to step around them, offering a hand and a quiet smile. With dark brown hair and warm blue eyes, the seventh year reminded Harry most of his mother.

"Hi, I'm Aster," He greeted, shaking Harry's hand. "Lily wouldn't stop talking about you all the way here."

"Aster!" Lily wailed, blushing furiously as Aster flashed a mischievous grin at her. While Harry had, mere seconds ago, thought Aster to be on the bookish side, the expression just now was entirely his father's.

"I'm Briar," The other redhead announced, shaking Harry's hand as well. He had brown eyes as well and an impish air about him that told Harry he was most likely the prankster of the family. "Nice to meet you."

Finally, at his mother's stern look, Basil stuck out a hand as well, introducing gruffly, "Basil. Nice to meet you."

Harry nodded back and quickly retreated when the second year said nothing more. Luckily, Fabian jumped back in before the atmosphere became awkward, glancing around the station.

"Lily, where are Annie and Char? You did say you would introduce us over Christmas."

"Oh, right! They went to meet their parents but they should still be here somewhere. Umm… over there! Annie! Char!"

Two girls, one with straight light brown hair in pigtails and a shy countenance, and another with shortly-cropped blonde hair and a playful air about her, approached, their parents walking behind them.

Another round of introductions was handed out before Harry found himself accosted by a bright-eyed Charlotte.

"You must be Harry! I'm Char!" She grinned up at him. "It's great to finally meet you in person!"

Annie stepped us well, nervous but smiling. "I'm Annie. Thank you for answering our letters."

Harry offered a smile to each of them, asking about their plans for Christmas to put them more at ease. He introduced himself to their parents, all four of whom were Muggles, and they all greeted him in a friendly manner. Apparently, both Annie and Charlotte had written home about him.

They soon found themselves making their way through the throng of children and parents, heading for the barrier separating them from Muggle London. Harry listened quietly as Lily and Char chattered on about their most recent visit to Hagrid, with Annie inserting a comment now and then.

A shout from several feet away made the entire group pause, Lily freezing when the voice called, "Have a Merry Christmas, Lily! See you after New Year's!"

Lily spun around, snapping back, "Why can't you just leave me alone, Ashford!"

"Lily!" Heather admonished, though there was a knowing glint in her eyes as they caught sight of a black-haired boy waving cheerfully at Lily.

Basil snickered aloud. "There's your boyfriend, Lil. What've you picked out for him for Christmas?"

"Shut _up_, Basil!" Lily hissed, face flaming as she noticed all the amused expressions around her. Almost automatically, she threw Harry, who didn't find anything funny about this as he recalled Ginny with her crush on him that only fuelled her insecurities and had eventually led to both their near-deaths, a desperate silent plea for help.

Harry glanced over at the barrier and waved a hand. "Barrier's clear. Let's go before that group over there gets there first."

To Lily's relief, the party turned away, continuing on without further comment, and she quickly shot Harry a grateful look.

But only a few steps away from their destination, another shout made them stop, and this time, no one found it remotely funny.

"Mudbloods like you shouldn't even be allowed to step into our world!" This was followed by a bang and people screaming.

Fabian and Gideon were standing in front of their group in an instant, eyes blazing.

"Death Eaters on holiday with nothing better to do," Gideon muttered grimly, wand drawn. "Bastards."

"Heather, take the kids and get everyone out of here," Fabian ordered even as he started ushering them forward again. This was getting to be difficult because people were trying to shove their way past each other, attempting to attract as little attention from the Death Eaters as possible.

Heather nodded swiftly and grabbed Lily and Basil by the hand while motioning for Annie and Charlotte's families to follow. Aster and Briar hovered nervously a little behind their dad and uncle, wands also out and raised.

Harry stood a little off to the side, staring as one of the five black-cloaked men grabbed a little girl and laughed as the one standing beside him said something with a cruel smile.

"Harry, come on, we can't stay," Gideon grabbed his elbow and started dragging him towards the barrier. "If we start a fight here, there's no way we won't hit an innocent. Leave it to the Aurors. They should be here soon."

Harry nodded numbly but couldn't take his eyes off the little girl, no older than eight. She had probably come with her parents to pick up an older sibling, excited to see her sister or brother again. Only terror remained on her face now.

"We can't just leave!" Harry said aloud, not looking away when the Death Eater holding onto the girl raised his wand in a taunting manner as a man who must have been her father threw himself forward, obviously begging for mercy. "The Aurors aren't going to get here in time!"

"Harry, I know how you feel but there's too many people," Fabian looked frustrated as even Heather had stopped urging everyone away to watch their exchange. "We start a fight and people are going to get killed."

Harry's eyes darted around the platform, taking in the many people jostling each other to get to the Apparition point first. A sudden calm fell over him as an idea came to him, strangely comforting in its sense of familiarity of impulsiveness.

Some would say it was brave; others would say it was plain stupid. But Harry's best plans had always been spur-of-the-moment ones, and with unexpected clarity, he knew it would work this time.

"Then don't start a fight," Harry's hand reached up to the collar of his cloak.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Fabian looked harried as he glanced at the Death Eaters again. "Let's go! We can't do anything here!"

Harry just smiled a little and pulled off his cloak in one smooth motion, draping it over one arm. "You can't, but I can."

And with that said, he was off, slipping through the tide of panicked people before anyone could stop him.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Gideon yelled above the din surrounding them. "He's going to get himself killed!"

Before either of the Prewett twins could rush after him, a startled cry rose above the cacophony of noise, silencing almost everyone on the platform.

"It's Harry Potter! Harry Potter's here!"

In the following hush, the five Death Eaters spun around as one, gazes seeking out the aforementioned wizard with single-minded intensity.

And there Harry stood, uncloaked and square-shouldered, staring straight back at the Death Eaters with all the reckless defiance only a Gryffindor could muster.

"It _is_him!" The Death Eater still holding the little girl said, a greedy gleam entering his eyes. "If we deliver him to the Dark Lord, he will reward us beyond our dreams!"

There were murmurs of agreement from his partners but they all flared with anger when Harry called out mockingly, "Hello, gentlemen! Did Voldie send you here? I must say, his idea of Christmas spirit isn't very festive, is it? Then again, with his temperament, I suppose he wouldn't know festive if it pissed on him!"

The Death Eaters let out a collective roar of fury as what seemed to be the leader thoughtlessly released the girl he had caught, bellowing orders at the other four, "GET POTTER! CRUCIO HIM UNTIL HE CAN'T STAND IF YOU HAVE TO! JUST GET HIM!"

That seemed to be enough for Harry as the twenty-two-year-old spun on his heel, robes flapping behind him as he sprinted through the packed station. Perhaps according to his plan, the people parted to make for him without protest, leaving a clear path for the Death Eaters as well but placing them safely out of harm's way. He blasted past the crowd around the barrier and dove through it, still shouting taunts over his shoulder. And like puppets attached to their strings, the Death Eaters followed, stupidly drawn into Harry's web and effectively captured within his simple trick.

Fabian and Gideon stared after him, wide-eyed.

"Kids, take a good look," Fabian finally spoke, voice faint with disbelief. "That is either what you would call bravery or madness."

"I stick by what I said earlier," Gideon yanked off his cloak as well, tossing it to Aster. "He's going to get himself killed." And without another word, he threw himself forward after Harry, hurtling through the barrier after the chase.

"Heather, take the kids home," Fabian repeated, passing his own cloak to his wife. "I'll see you back at the house." And then he too was gone, flashing through the barrier on his brother's heels.

"Come along," Heather started ushering the entire group towards the barrier again, smiling reassuringly at Annie and Char's parents as well. "We'll wait a bit before going through. Everyone is welcome to stay at our place until the danger has passed."

"Mum, they'll be okay, right?" Lily piped up anxiously.

Heather drew her daughter into a tight hug. "I'm sure they'll be fine. They've trained for this sort of thing."

Aster was staring worriedly at the barrier, wand still out as if he would like nothing better than to run after his father and uncle. But he stayed put, keeping a wary eye out for any sign of another source of danger.

"'That way madness lies'," Aster murmured under his breath, recalling the fearlessness that had shone like a beacon from Harry's entire being as he confronted the Death Eaters. Surely that was beyond simple courage. His father had said it was either bravery or madness. To him, it seemed an awful lot like the latter.

Aster had grown up with stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. First a saviour, then a traitor and a murderer, and finally a martyr and a survivor. Aster had watched the people around him talking excitedly about the newest piece of Harry Potter's life, and he had found the amount of pleasure taken from discussing an actual person's life sickening.

His gaze dropped to his sister and he considered how bright her expression always became after another letter from Harry arrived. He had asked about it a few times, in private of course, and had listened to a few passages of a couple letters, and even one time when Lily had shyly shown him a section, detailing a story of battling a dragon for a golden egg. Aster knew of the Triwizard Tournament, of course, and was satisfied that the person his sister was corresponding with wasn't lying to her or trying to hurt her in any way.

But it wasn't until he had met Harry that Aster was put completely at ease. He had expected a lot of things, but tired and nervous hadn't been one of them. Thinking back, he supposed that was rather stupid of him; it hadn't even been half a year since Harry had been released from Azkaban.

Still, shorter and with a slight build, Harry had shaken his hand with a sort of stubborn firmness, as if he didn't want anyone thinking he might be weaker than he portrayed himself to be. He hadn't said much either, opting to listen instead of speak, at least until the Death Eaters had arrived.

And then Aster had witnessed a complete one-eighty in the man's demeanor, from tense and reticent to calm and self-assured, exuding a steel-like inner strength that Aster envied.

And all for a little girl he didn't even know. Aster had seen the child as well and had wanted to help, but after his father's instructions, his first instinct had been to follow them.

Harry hadn't though. Hadn't even seemed to consider the thought of running away. His gaze had certainly never wavered from the little girl.

Aster was in his seventh year at school. He liked Quidditch and books; an odd combination, but it worked. He would graduate in a few months and had already decided to help his father and uncle in the war effort.

But the meaning of that had never really sunk in until today. He had always been kept away from any actual fighting, only hearing the news that his father and uncle brought home. And now that he had gotten his first taste of what _fighting in the war_ actually meant, he wondered if he truly had what it took to do so. Would he run when his father told him to and leave the fighting to others? Or would he refuse and insist on staying, no matter the danger, because it was the right thing to do?

Aster didn't know, but now that he was actually thinking about it, he thought he understood a little better of the world he lived in. And maybe he would ask Harry for advice; just a few questions to see what had made the black-haired wizard into someone who would run into a hopeless situation like today's without a shred of fear to show for it.

Because he thought, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and all those other names that people stuck him with but really wasn't who he was, was someone Aster might want to become one day.

* * *

**Twelfth chapter done! Please review!**

'**That way madness lies' – King Lear by Shakespeare**


	13. And So Time Passes Part 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really enjoyed writing the last chapter and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it.**

**Note 2: Again, this chapter will be like the last two and will be covering Christmas, a bit of an interlude in the year I am covering. There will be one or two more like this after this chapter before I switch back to covering a few days at a time instead.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 13 – And So Time Passes (Part 3)**

_You know your children are growing up when they stop asking you where they come from and refuse to tell you where they're going. You know your children are grown up when they tell you where they're going because it might be time to say goodbye._

_-Me_

* * *

**-December 20****th****, 2002-**

On hindsight, Harry thought getting five Death Eaters to chase after him through Muggle London probably wasn't the smartest idea in terms of self-preservation. For one, he was hopelessly outnumbered; for another, what looked like the mother of all snowstorms was settling in with alarming speed, which definitely didn't help matters.

Tonks had told him, in one of the lessons she had given him, that when he was in a fight, even if it was unfair (and nine times out of ten, it would be), the most important thing wasn't the difference in numbers or who was stronger. The most important thing was to be able to take what you had – your arsenal of spells, your surroundings, your enemies themselves – and use them all to your advantage.

So Harry did.

The Death Eaters chasing him were all quite big, and, considering the fact that they had all fallen for his little trick, probably pretty stupid as well. Grunts then. He could work with that.

The snow was also falling thick and fast, which was slowing him down, but was slowing the Death Eaters down even more. Harry veered off to the left, knowing he should use the extra time he had to search for a place to make his stand. His best bet, though not very bright in some ways, would be to get his back against a wall, with some extra cover in front of him. He couldn't let himself be surrounded or caught unawares from behind.

He had never really been to Muggle London long enough to recognize any landmarks but he spotted a square up ahead; the wooden benches and bare snow-laden trees would make a quaint scene if there wasn't a snowstorm on the horizon. Skidding to a halt behind the farthest bench in the square, one corner of the place at his back, Harry waited for the Death Eaters to catch up, squinting through the flurries of white.

Two Death Eaters burst into the plaza, and Harry didn't give them time to even look around before shooting off two stunners and flooring them with ease. The other three had obviously seen their comrades fall and separated as soon as they entered the square, taking cover behind their own benches.

"Come out, Potter!" The leader jeered from the far left. "You won't get out of this unscathed! We will deliver you to the Dark Lord and he will reward us for capturing you!"

"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered, and then fired off another stunner in the leader's direction. It was easily blocked and Harry had to duck when the man sent a Crucio back at him.

"You're too soft, Potter!" The Death Eater yelled. "A stunner in this day and age? We're not playing kiddie games, boy!"

Life and death situations were hardly 'kiddie games', Harry thought with morbid amusement. Funny enough, he had been facing them constantly since he _was_ a kid.

He counted to five, shot off another stunner, repelling the Cutting Hex in return with a hasty shield before throwing a powerful Blasting Charm. He grimaced a little as the other side of the plaza exploded but nodded to himself in satisfaction when he heard a pained scream. He had caught at least one more then.

"Carpe Retractum!" A voice yelled and Harry suddenly found a glowing blue rope wrapped around his arm. He was jerked completely off his feet as the Death Eater yanked him forward, dragging him over the snow with careless abandon.

Swearing under his breath, Harry tried to fire off a Relashio, only to miss as he was hauled across the square.

"Got you now!" The Death Eater cackled, and Harry caught a glimpse of the other Death Eater's wand being raised, a cruel smile curving his lips.

"Cruci-"

Harry had already gritted his teeth, anticipating the familiar pain, but a loud bang cut the Death Eater off mid-curse. Another crack sounded almost immediately afterwards and the rope wrapped around his arm released without protest.

Looking up, Harry instinctively flinched as Gideon flew to his side a little too quickly, but the Prewett twin ignored his reaction, choosing to examine him for injury instead.

"You bloody fool!" Gideon snapped harshly. "What kind of an idiot runs off alone with no back-up against five Death Eaters?"

"I was doing alright," Harry protested, allowing Gideon to help him back on his feet.

"Oh yes, being dragged along the ground and getting within half a second of being tortured; yes, it was quite clear you were doing absolutely brilliantly."

Harry shot a glare at the man. "I got three of them!"

"And then you almost got killed," Gideon retorted, not giving an inch. "Three Death Eaters in exchange for your life. Does that sound-"

"Gideon, knock it off!" Fabian bellowed from where he was facing off against the last Death Eater still standing. "Either help me or get Harry out of here!"

Gideon muttered something unintelligible before taking two steps to the right and calmly shooting off a stunner that found its target at the centre of the Death Eater's chest. The man toppled over without a sound, a look of surprise still etched on his face as he collapsed on the ground.

"Well that was anticlimactic," Fabian remarked, lowering his wand. "I would've had him in a few more seconds."

Gideon scoffed. "You asked for my help."

"I gave you a choice," Fabian countered, scanning the plaza for any other movement. "And that was mostly just to shut you up."

Gideon rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. A moment later, he rounded on Harry again, eyes narrowed accusingly. "What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?"

Harry stared from Gideon's stern face to his crossed arms before asking incredulously, "Are you _lecturing_ me?"

Gideon shifted a little as Fabian stepped up beside him. "Not lecturing you, per se," Fabian denied, running a weary hand through his hair to clear some of the snow in it. "It's just- You really should have thought before doing something so reckless."

Harry took a step back. "I did think. I thought of what that poor father would've felt if he had to watch his only daughter die in front of him. I thought of what that little girl would feel, only eight years old and already sentenced to death. I thought of that family, broken because nobody stepped up to help them."

The Prewett twins released twin sighs that only infuriated Harry for some reason. "Look, Harry," Gideon started again. "What you did was very brave, but you really shouldn't be so careless."

"Careless?" Harry repeated, ire rising behind his calm expression.

"We're just saying you should be more careful," Fabian hastily cut in. "You could've been hurt."

Harry remained silent for a moment, reigning in his anger. "I'm twenty-two," He finally said. "I can make my own decisions."

"We know that," Fabian assured. "We were just worried. You never did finish studying at Hogwarts-"

"Tonks has been training me," Harry snapped. "And I've always been good at fighting the odds. I bet I could duel one of you to at least a draw."

"We don't mean it like that," Gideon frowned. "But you're not used to fighting-"

This was definitely the wrong thing to say, as far as Harry was concerned. His temper flared with a vengeance and the Prewett twins seemed to shrink back just a little as he snarled, "Fighting? I've been fighting my entire life! I've never been safe even once! I spent my whole childhood in a place that might as well have been a prison! And Hogwarts has never been safe for me! I've been fighting Voldemort or Death Eaters or both since I was eleven!" His voice dropped back to a normal volume, still edged with sharp steel. "I knew exactly what I was doing back at the station. I'm not a child. Don't you dare treat me like one."

And, still fuming inside, Harry turned on his heel, picking his way through the snow as the storm crashed down even harder. Before either twin could stop him, he had Disapparated with a sharp crack, never sparing them so much as a glance.

A long silence followed Harry's disappearance. One of the Death Eaters stirred and groaned. Gideon kicked him.

"Well," Fabian said gloomily. "That could've gone better."

**r.R.r**

"YOU WHAT?"

"Look, we went right after him. He's fine! Not a scratch on him. Mostly."

"Most-! WE TRUSTED YOU TO LOOK OUT FOR HIM! THAT'S THE ONLY REASON WE DIDN'T COME AS WELL WHEN YOU DRAGGED HIM OFF TO THE TRAIN STATION!"

"We did look out for him! Why are you always angry at me? Harry's the one who ran off!"

"ARE YOU TRYING TO BLAME HARRY NOW?"

"What? No! I'm just saying it was one of those things-"

"ONE OF _WHAT_ THINGS? NOT ONLY DID YOU LET HIM GET INTO A DUEL WITH DEATH EATERS, YOU CHASED HIM OFF AFTERWARDS IN THIS GODFORSAKEN STORM WITH ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE HE IS NOW!"

"We'll find him. We just stopped by to see if he came back here. We'll head out to search right now!"

"No. Just, no," George closed his eyes for a moment and tried to swallow the fear-fuelled anger threatening to swallow him. "Just stay here. Fred and I will go."

"No, George, that's too dangerous." Gideon started, alarmed.

"Someone who waited twenty-two years before getting the balls to come back to their family doesn't have any right to tell them what to do," George stared at him, brown eyes uncharacteristically hard. "And Harry's right; just because we're younger than you doesn't mean we don't know how to handle ourselves."

"You were just yelling at me for letting him take on Death Eaters!" Gideon protested.

"Yeah, I wish they hadn't shown up at all or at least you were fighting with him from the very beginning, but that's not what I'm mad about. Why couldn't you just ask him if he was okay when the fight was over and let it go? Harry wouldn't be Harry if he didn't follow his instincts, and scolding him like he's some disobedient child is just plain insulting."

"So you think that if he took on several Death Eaters in a duel and got injured from it, you'd just ask if he was okay, patch him up, and 'let it go'?" Gideon challenged.

"We don't have to think," Fred said as he walked into the kitchen, pulling his cloak on and glancing between the so-far-silent Fabian standing by the sink and the slightly red-faced Gideon in front of George. "We know. Harry got into a fight in August, right here in our joke shop. George and I were up the street fighting and three Death Eaters got in here. They duelled and Harry took all three of them out. Trashed the place and Harry got injured, but we fixed him up and didn't make a huge deal out of it. Come tomorrow, surprise, surprise, Harry was still here."

"But-" Gideon looked between his nephews. "He's been in Azkaban for seven years. He's still kind of a kid."

"Ah, no," Fred winced. "Whatever you do, don't you dare say that to his face unless you really want to see just how big a temper he has. One: that's not true; Harry hasn't been a kid for, well, I don't think I've ever considered Harry as just a kid. I mean, what mere child could take down You-Know-Who at eleven? And two: don't say that in front of us again. We hear Mum saying it enough to piss us off too. She's our mother and I know it's her job to worry, but she'd keep us from Order meetings if she could – she did that even after we were of age for an entire year – and that's more likely to get us killed than keep us safe. Harry's the same. People look at him and see how young and scrawny he is and automatically think he can't do much of anything. Thing is, Harry's always risen to the occasion. Saved the school at least once a year when he was at Hogwarts but nobody ever sees that. They either think he needs to be babied to death because he's too much of a kid to be anything but helpless, like Mum, or they think he's an arrogant attention-seeker who never seems to have anything better to do than go up against monsters that want to kill him, like Snape. I mean how thick would you have to be to believe that?"

Gideon looked to have been stunned into silence. He looked over at his brother. Fabian just shrugged. "My daughter certainly doesn't treat him like a naive teenager."

"You're daughter's eleven," Gideon pointed out.

"So? From what I've managed to get out of her and Aster, she writes to him for all sorts of things; discussions on homework, advice on bullies, requests for stories of his time at Hogwarts, even assurances on something about standing up for friends. I wish she'd come to me or her mother or even her brothers for that sort of thing, but honestly, Basil would just laugh and tease her about it, Briar wouldn't really be able to understand, and while Aster might, he's still her _brother_ in the end. With the insecurities that come with being the only girl and thinking that she needs to live up to our legacy as Gryffindors, it's most likely a safe bet that she wouldn't come to us. Her mother's a Muggle and there are some things she just wouldn't understand, so Lily thinks she can't really go to Heather either. I doubt she'd write to Harry if she thought he didn't meet all her requirements. Harry certainly doesn't tease her about anything. Didn't you see what he did back at the train station with the boy? The rest of us just thought it was funny."

"It was a laugh," Gideon grumbled half-heartedly. "Puppy love and all that."

"For all of us, yes," Fabian agreed. "But if you think about it, it definitely wouldn't be for Lily. Sometimes, as adults, what seems harmless to us isn't necessarily so for children, and we don't notice when we should draw the line. Harry understood, and someone who understands is probably what Lily wants most."

"...That sounded absolutely profound," Gideon said dryly.

Fabian shrugged easily. "It comes with being a father. Lily's my daughter. I'd like to think I know her quite well. It's also the reason George never yells at me."

Gideon snapped his head around to scowl morosely at George. So far, he hadn't been able to see any of that mischievous little boy who had adored him with his entire being when he was young. At the moment, he was pulling on a cloak of his own that Fred had handed to him, determinedly ignoring him instead.

"We'll come search too," Fabian offered quietly.

Fred just shook his head. "Go home. I'm sure your family's worried about you. Harry's our family. We'll go look for him."

"He's your surrogate brother," Fabian pointed out, but something odd and unnoticed by all save Gideon flashed through his eyes as his gaze flickered briefly to George. He continued without pause though, voice firm. "Which makes him our surrogate nephew, and I'm speaking for both myself and Gideon when I say that I am quite glad he is. We'll come too."

Fred just sighed and shrugged in a resigned manner. "Suit yourselves. You want to freeze your buttocks off in that million-below-zero blizzard outside, knock yourselves out, just, hopefully, not literally."

Two minutes later, they were trooping out the front door, but Fabian hung back, stopping Fred with an urgent hand.

"Harry said something earlier," Fabian said quietly. "That he spent his childhood in a place that might as well have been a prison. Do you know what he meant?"

Something dark and terrifyingly close to hatred stared back at Fabian for a split second, almost making him flinch. It disappeared just as quickly though and Fred sighed, shaking his head. "It's not my place to say. Ask Harry if you want to know."

Fabian watched Fred move away. Only a handful of suspicions came to mind at his nephew's words, and none of them good. He really wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore.

**r.R.r**

Surprisingly, it took less than an hour to track down Harry, even more surprising that it was Fabian who thought of the place first instead of one of the Weasley twins.

Harry was sitting on the bench at the bus stop that Fabian had taken to spending a few afternoons at with the younger wizard.

"Harry," Fabian couldn't help the flood of relief that rushed through him as he hurried over to the younger wizard's side. "You really can't just disappear on us like this." He paused when there was no reply. "Harry?"

"He can't help it," George elbowed him aside without preamble. "_This_ is why we were so worried." He crouched down in front of Harry, grimacing at the empty green eyes staring back at him. "Come on Harry, snap out of it. Come back, please."

Fabian and Gideon both turned to Fred, looking thoroughly bewildered.

Fred sighed, the sound tired and cheerless. "What, you thought someone could just skip out of Azkaban after seven years without any consequences? Four walls and crappy food for so long would make anyone lose it, much less being surrounded by Dementors day in and day out."

"So he just..." Gideon gestured clumsily at Harry.

"Disappears, yeah," Fred nodded shortly. "Into his mind. Could happen anytime. There's no trigger that we could figure out. A few weeks ago, we were having a conversation about what we should have for dinner and Harry just blanked out midway through the conversation. Took us an hour to get him back."

Fabian's first thought was to get Harry to St. Mungos, but Albus Dumbledore's manipulations followed half a second later and he knew they couldn't send the twenty-two-year-old there. Gideon looked to be mirroring his thoughts because he only sighed and focused on George's coaxing. It took Fabian a moment to realize his brother was observing their nephew's actions intently, storing this new knowledge away in case Harry disappeared on them and the twins weren't around.

Eventually, George simply scooped Harry up and they quickly headed back to the joke shop. By that time, Harry seemed to have fallen asleep, so a Warming Charm and a quick transfiguration of his clothes later, they had Harry tucked safely into bed.

"Now go home," Fred gestured to the fireplace. "I'm serious. Your family must be going mad with worry."

Fabian and Gideon finally acquiesced, but not before extracting a promise to be notified as soon as Harry woke up.

"They really do care," Fred remarked to his twin.

George nodded grudgingly. "I know. I just- Do you remember how much Mum doted on Harry? I mean he was like the seventh son of the family. Even Percy was soft on him half the time and Bill and Charlie liked him the moment they met him. Ron and Hermione were his best friends and even before Ginny got to know him a little, she idolized him and thought he could do no wrong. But then one word from Dumbledore that he's some crazy Muggle-murdering Dark-Lord-in-training and all that just flies out the window. They cared alright," George's voice was bitter. "Just like Uncle Fabian and Gideon. They just apparently didn't care enough. What if that happens again? What if someone else frames Harry? If he gets close enough to our uncles and they turn on him like everyone else did, it'll kill him this time, Fred. Harry's strong, but he's not that strong."

"Ah, so that's why you're always trying to chase them out," Fred kicked up his feet on the coffee table as he leaned back on the couch. "I did wonder. But why Uncle Gideon, particularly? I suppose Uncle Fabian might understand a little what with Harry helping out his daughter, but..."

"Because he's like me," George said simply. "Or I suppose I'm like Uncle Gideon. Our personalities are very alike. I chose Harry over family. You know me, Fred. Once I've made up my mind about something, it's very hard to make me see it any other way. It's part of the reason why I've never considered Mum and Dad to be right about Harry. I'm stubborn like that. Uncle Gideon's the same. Who do you think he'd choose; Harry or the sister he probably still feels guilty towards for staying away all these years? If he picks Mum's side, nothing and no one will be able to change his mind." George's expression turned darker. "We're the same. As much as I hate to admit it, if I hadn't known Harry as well as I did, I might've agreed with our family, and trust me when I say I would've spent all seven years of Harry's sentence hating him instead. One or the other. It could've gone either way for me, and it could go either way for Uncle Gideon."

Fred had remained silent throughout George's entire explanation but now he raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. "And Uncle Fabian? I suppose he's like me then. Or rather, I'm like him."

"Yeah," George nodded in agreement. "You're both reasonable. It's why we're twins, Fred. We balance each other out. When I do something irrational, you stop me long enough to look at it from a different angle."

"And what makes you think Uncle Fabian won't do the same for Uncle Gideon?" Fred pointed out calmly. "There's a reason _they're_ twins too, George. They balance each other out just as much as we do."

George didn't say anything more but Fred knew he was thinking about it. That was his job; make George consider things from another side when he didn't want to.

With a slight smile, Fred headed for the kitchen to start dinner. He hoped this storm would move on soon. They still had Christmas shopping to do.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-December 24****th****, 2002-**

"Just give them to him. If he doesn't want them, then he can throw them out, but-"

"Do we look like house-elves to you? We would've sent our gifts by owl if it wasn't for the weather. We didn't come over here to pick up your presents."

"Please, just take them. He can burn them in his own time-"

"This one's alcohol, you can't burn that-"

"Yeah, except that one, but if it makes him feel better, he can throw it or something-"

"Alright, alright. Bloody hell, we'll take them. But don't think that just because it's Christmas, he's going to be any more forgiving than he has been."

**r.R.r**

"What are you doing?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder as he peered into the cupboards. "Not much. Wow, you have a lot of presents."

"They're not all ours," Fred said, levitating them past the kitchen and into the sitting room where a brightly-decorated Christmas tree stood. "I'm pretty sure half of them are yours."

Harry stilled for a moment before opening another cabinet. "I don't want anything from them."

"Yes, well, they wouldn't let us leave until we took them," George dropped into an empty chair at the dinner table. "Why do we even bother buying gifts anyway? You'd think we'd have stopped by now."

"Because we're not Percy and we still consider them our family," Fred entered the kitchen. "And Harry, if you're looking for alcohol, don't bother. We dumped it all down the drain."

Harry frowned at them as he closed the cabinet he had been rummaging through. "What? Why?"

"Getting drunk's not good for you, and we're not looking forward to you becoming an alcoholic."

"I drank once," Harry pointed out, annoyed. "Drinking on occasion is hardly going to turn me into an alcoholic."

"That's what they all say," Fred said sagely. "But you drink because you're depressed and that's not good for anyone involved. And before you go check, we got rid of the bottle of wine that came with your presents."

Harry rolled his eyes but moved away from the cupboards. "You two worry too much."

"We worry just enough," George corrected. "Now are you sure you don't want us coming with you? We could drink Polyjuice or something and none of them will ever know."

"I'm sure," Harry headed over to the fireplace the twins had just vacated. "Besides, I don't want you and Gideon getting into another fight. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Tell them Merry Christmas for us," Fred called, ignoring George's snort. "And try not to go after anymore Death Eaters."

"No promises," Harry offered a slight grin over his shoulder before flooing away, green flames bright as he disappeared.

**r.R.r**

Harry tripped out of the grate, falling hard on carpeted floor as the floo network spat him out. Damn, he hated floo travel.

"Are you alright?"

Harry started a little at the voice, quickly scrambling to his feet and adjusting his cloak. He looked up to find Aster in front of him, wearing casual Muggle clothes and a concerned expression.

"Fine," Harry nodded, pushing back wayward bangs as he straightened. "Um, Merry Christmas?"

It came out sounding more like a question than anything else but Aster didn't seem to mind, returning the greeting with a warm smile and leading Harry towards a doorway.

"Harry!" Lily shot into the room and threw her arms around him in a hug.

Harry immediately tensed, hands hovering over the girl's shoulders with no idea what to do. How long had it been since he had last been hugged? Definitely over seven years, and only a handful of times before that.

Stiffly, he patted Lily's back and detached himself as soon as possible, trying not to look too unsettled.

"Hello Lily," Harry offered a slight smile. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" The brunette grabbed his hand and dragged him through to the dining room, Aster following behind them. "Come on, everyone's waiting."

"Welcome, Harry!" Heather greeted him as he stepped into to dining room, the smell of roast turkey in the air. Fabian and Gideon waved from the dinner table. They had met up a few days ago and both had apologized for pushing. Harry had shrugged and apologized for overreacting, and the entire situation was smoothed over without further incident.

Briar and Basil tumbled in through the back door, hair wind-tossed and cheeks flushed from the cold as they trekked in.

"You two!" Heather swept over to them as melting snow dripped onto the floor. "Fabian, the snow?"

"Yes dear," Fabian quickly flicked his wand at his sons, vanishing the snow and water.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Briar greeted cheerfully, shedding his coat. "Just in time for dinner!"

Basil nodded a little at him before hurrying away upstairs. Harry paid him little mind. He wasn't sure what Basil had against him but he'd probably find out eventually.

"I brought presents," Harry brought out several miniature packages from his robes and enlarged them. "Where should I put them?"

There were obviously seven gifts in Harry's arms and Heather beamed at him. "You really didn't have to, Harry dear."

Harry shrugged. "You invited me for dinner."

"As a guest," Heather said firmly before tossing a stern look at her husband. "Fabian should have made it clear that you didn't need to bring anything."

Fabian raised his hands defensively. "I did! Harry insisted."

Lily volunteered to take Harry to the Christmas tree while Heather continued scolding Fabian.

"Thanks for coming, Harry," Lily told him while he shuffled the presents under the tree. "And I thought what you did at the train station was very brave."

Harry tried not to look too embarrassed. "I wouldn't say brave. I just couldn't let that little girl get hurt, that's all."

"It was still brave," Lily said stoutly before her expression turned thoughtful. "And maybe you could talk to Aster later. He's been quieter than usual ever since that day."

Harry blinked down at her. "Why? Did something happen?"

Lily shook her head. "Mm-mm. He's just got that look on his face; the one he has when's he's thinking about something complicated. He even beat me to asking Dad and Uncle Gideon if you were alright when they got back."

Harry said nothing. He wasn't sure what to say. The only things he knew about Aster – Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, interest in Ancient Runes, great at Charms – were the few mentions in Lily's letters.

"Come on," Lily interrupted his thoughts. "You'll love Mum's food. She always insists on doing most of the cooking even though Dad and Uncle Gideon could whip something up really fast with magic. She says it tastes better and it really does."

Harry nodded and followed Lily back into the kitchen, offering to set the table at which Lily clamored to help as well. Heather only laughed and pointed them in the direction of the cutlery.

**r.R.r**

Dinner was a cheery affair. Laughter and casual conversation permeated the air as they enjoyed the delicious food Heather had made.

Harry preferred staying quiet, listening to the chatter around him with a small smile. Lily had pulled up a seat for him between herself and Aster and had proceeded to talk about anything she could think of, sometimes joined by Briar and Aster as they regaled him with tales of past Christmases.

No one commented on the small plate of food Harry had eaten, most likely having been warned by Fabian and Gideon that his appetite wasn't the best. It was a shame really; Heather's cooking could give Molly's a run for her money, and Harry had tried to eat as much as he could. Heather had seemed to understand the apologetic look Harry had shot her because she offered to pack some of it up so that he could take it back with him. Harry had eagerly accepted, thinking of the twins as well. They would definitely love her food.

By the time dinner was over, Heather and Lily were washing up in the kitchen, and Harry quickly excused himself from the sitting room. He needed a breather after being surrounded on all sides for two hours.

Slipping outside onto the porch, he shut the door behind him, instantly cutting off the voices inside and leaving a muffled silence as the snow continued to blanket the world in a landscape of white.

It was very peaceful, Harry mused as he sat down on the porch steps. A part of him honestly wouldn't mind staying in a world like this for the rest of his life. It would certainly be less dramatic.

The sound of the door sliding open again made him look around. He made to rise when Aster stepped out but the seventh year quickly shook his head, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Aster gestured at the house. "Briar and Basil are getting a bit loud."

"'Course not," Harry slid over to make room. "It's your house."

Aster smiled and took a seat next to him, tightening the cloak he had put on. For a while, the two sat in comfortable silence, staring out at the falling snow.

"Thanks for writing to Lily," Aster was the first to break the silence though he kept his voice low. "It's really helped her at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled. "She handled the first few months fine by herself. And she's got good friends too. And you and the other two of course."

Aster tilted his head a little, sighing. "We're her older brothers. There are some things she just doesn't come to us with, especially because of Basil's teasing. He's been like that for a while, ever since he started Hogwarts last year. He and Lily used to be really close. But a year apart, well, I suppose they'll fix themselves sooner or later."

"Is that why Basil doesn't like me very much?"

Aster looked embarrassed. "You've noticed, huh? Sorry about that. I think he's a little jealous. Lily used to follow him around everywhere; you know, copy whatever he does, all the stuff that comes with sibling adoration. He'll get over it."

Harry only nodded. He wouldn't really know about siblings, having none of his own after all.

"You're okay from the Death Eater attack?" Aster suddenly asked, flushing a little when Harry turned to him with a startled expression.

"Er, yes," Harry nodded. "A few scratches but nothing worse than that. Why do you ask?"

Aster stared absently at the snow for a moment before blurting out, "Right before he went after you, dad said you were either very brave or very mad. Which are you then?" His gaze was entirely serious as he turned to meet Harry's gaze.

Harry observed him for a long moment. Something about Aster's quiet friendliness and direct sincerity when talking reminded him of Bill, even though the two looked nothing alike.

"Mad," Harry eventually replied, recalling all the time he had spent in Azkaban with detached amusement. "Definitely mad. I'm not very brave."

Aster looked taken aback at his easy admission before huffing out a laugh. "Lily wouldn't agree. She says you're very brave. I'm fairly certain you've become her new hero."

Harry shook his head, propping his head up with hand as he balanced an elbow on his knees. "I'm no hero. This is war. With the right push, anyone would've done what I did."

Aster became very quiet and Harry glanced to the side. Neither said anything as Harry stayed silent to allow the younger wizard to gather his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the Prewett twins and Heather had gathered by the backdoor, and even though the Prewett matriarch was whispering urgently under her breath for all of them to stop eavesdropping, her efforts were half-hearted at best as Gideon tapped the door with his wand.

"But I didn't," Aster finally spoke. "I mean, I saw the girl but after dad told us to go..."

Harry shrugged. "He's your dad. Any child's first instinct would be to listen to their parents, or anyone who sounds like they know what they're doing more than you do. And your dad was right. If you had started a fight at the station, people would've been hurt at the very least. He made the right call."

"But you thought of another way-" Aster protested.

Harry chuckled, shifting on the spot. "The thing about me, Aster, is that I have what most people would call a lack of self-preservation and a problem with authority. I don't really listen to anyone when it comes to this sort of thing. Never have, probably never will. I've never really found anything wrong with what I do, but people around me, well, most of the time, they don't agree with my... recklessness, I suppose."

"But you do it anyway," Aster said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Because I think it's the right thing to do. It's not like I plan it or anything," He added. "Most of the time, I look at the situation, consider the options, pick the one I think is best, and hope like hell it's the right choice. Usually, it is, and I get out of whatever situation I'm in alive."

Aster seemed to consider his words for a long moment, absently playing with the hem of his cloak. "I want to join my dad and uncle in the war effort after I graduate," He said at last, and Harry had a feeling that they had finally arrived at what Aster wanted to talk about most. "I just don't know if I can..." He trailed off, looking, for the first time, a little scared as he thought of the future.

Harry turned back to look out at the yard. "No one really knows if they're ready until they're actually confronted with certain circumstances," Harry shifted to fully face the eldest Prewett son. "I certainly didn't. Most of the things I've done, fighting Voldemort, fighting Death Eaters, I didn't ever think I would be ready, but it's not so much that I wasn't prepared and more that I've never really had a choice in the matter. I mean, it was either fight or die or let someone else die, or a combination of the last two. It'll probably be like that for you. There aren't many options on a battlefield."

Aster just stared at him. "Dad's never put it so bluntly," He commented faintly.

Harry shrugged. "There's not much use in sugar-coating it; it's not going to help you in a few months," His mouth turned down. "People kept a lot of things from me loads of times. It didn't help, in the end."

He glanced at Aster again, studying the sombre blue eyes. "You know, you don't have to fight."

There was an instant reaction. "Yes I do," Aster drew himself up, shoulders tensing defensively as if expecting Harry to criticize his next words. "My family is in danger. Mum's a Muggle and I'm the eldest. I have to do what I can to protect my brothers and sister."

Harry couldn't help the approval that painted itself on his face, and Aster must have seen because his frame relaxed once more.

"That'll make you strong," Harry rose to his feet, dusting a few snowflakes from the hem of his robes. Aster got up as well, eyes intent as he hung on to Harry's every word. Harry blinked at the warm glow of pleasure in his chest and wondered if this was a little of what it felt like to have a younger brother.

"Protecting the people you care about," Harry clarified. "So long as you have strong enough reasons to fight and remember those reasons, you'll be much stronger than someone without. Conviction, you see; conviction in your own actions is where real strength comes from."

Understanding dawned in Aster's eyes and Harry smiled, a ridiculous burst of pride thrumming in his chest when the younger wizard nodded almost determinedly. Harry said nothing more though and the two made their way back inside, ears picking up the muffled chatter of the rest of the family as they stepped through the door.

**r.R.r**

"Do come back to visit, Harry," Heather insisted as she pressed a large package of presents and food into his hands. "Even if the kids aren't here, you're welcome in our home anytime."

"I'll keep that in mind, ma'am," Harry offered a faint smile as he shrunk the package down. "Thank you for having me over."

"It's just Heather," She smiled back at him and hoped he understood the gratitude she was trying to convey even if he wouldn't know what for. "You're far too polite. Have a Merry Christmas."

"You as well," Harry nodded at the room in general, accepted a hug from Lily, and then disappeared through the fireplace in a sea of green.

Half an hour later, with Lily, Basil, and Briar in bed, Aster scowled at his parents and uncle lounging in the sitting room.

"You were eavesdropping," He accused. "The newspapers stacked by the back door were crooked when we came in. You always knock into them when you pass by, Dad."

Neither Fabian nor Gideon had the decency to look even a bit guilty. Heather eyed them disapprovingly before sighing. "I'm sorry, dear. We wondered where you and Harry had gotten to and saw you outside."

Aster huffed in annoyance. "That was a private conversation. I've been waiting to catch Harry alone all evening. I just wanted to ask him about-"

"We heard," Fabian said when his son cut himself off. "...You could've come to me, you know."

Aster's cheeks tinged red. "No I couldn't. You never say it outright, but I know you don't want me to fight when I graduate. You never tell me anything about the raids you stop other than it went alright. Of course it went alright, you came home! But I'm going to fight. I'm of age and I've decided to join the war effort. And Harry's right; not telling me things isn't going to help me in the long run. I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but I'm going to try anyway."

Heather remained silent, feeling something a lot like bereavement as she watched her eldest son, straight-backed and resolute, face his father with unwavering determination.

Aster had always been the quietest of her four children. He wasn't shy like Basil and Lily could be, but nor was he as outgoing as Briar. He provided a balance between the other three, which was one of the reasons all of them looked up to him and listened when he told them to do something. She had watched him grow up, watched all of them grow up, bit by bit, but Aster had made the most significant change thus far. She had gone to his Quidditch games and watched him direct his team, seen how the friends he invited over looked to her eldest for homework advice, observed the worry lines that creased his brow whenever Fabian and Gideon went out to fight, and sighed at the resigned annoyance on his face when they wouldn't tell him anything once they came back.

The resigned air was gone now though, leaving someone Heather had known her son would become. She didn't want Aster fighting, or her husband and brother-in-law for that matter, but some things were necessary, and she knew stopping Aster would be futile. All four of her children had inherited their father's bullheadedness after all.

Fabian was staring almost wide-eyed at Aster, as if he had never seen him before. Beside him, Gideon looked mildly surprised but a small proud smile curved his lips as he watched his nephew.

"Aster..." Fabian started weakly, and then seemed to run out of words to say.

"Brother of mine," Gideon rose to his feet, clapping Fabian on the shoulder. "Your kid's not a kid anymore," He turned to nod at Aster. "Don't ever forget what you're feeling right now. I'll be glad to have you watching my back."

With a last smile at Heather and a quiet goodnight, Gideon strolled out of the sitting room and headed for bed.

"I don't want you fighting," Fabian said abruptly.

Aster nodded. "I know."

"But you don't care," Fabian sighed.

Aster didn't look away. "I have to fight, Dad. I'm old enough to help you and Uncle Gideon now. I don't want to have to stay behind and wait, not even knowing if you two would make it back home every single time."

Fabian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How Molly does this is beyond me," He muttered, shaking his head when Aster looked questioningly at him.

"Alright, fine, I don't think I can stop you anyway," Fabian slapped his thighs as he straightened in his seat and glanced over at his wife. "Heather?"

Heather rose to her feet and made her way over to Aster. He was now tall enough that they were the same height even when he was sitting down.

Heather said nothing at first, pulling him into a fierce hug instead as she tried to convey how proud she was of him and how much she loved him. Aster hugged her back just as hard.

"You don't start fighting until after you graduate," Heather said as she pulled back. "And no matter what happens, dying isn't an option. Understand?"

Aster looked almost near tears for a moment. "Yes, Mum. And don't worry; I'll keep Dad and Uncle Gideon safe too."

Heather released a shaky laugh and looked back at Fabian. "You better take good care of him too, mister."

Fabian raised his hands in a placating gesture, grinning a little, but his eyes were serious when he replied, "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-December 25****th****, 2002-**

Christmas passed without incident, pleasant and enjoyable for the most part.

At Grimmauld Place, though everyone gathered for the food and smiles found their way onto most people's faces, there was an air of sorrow hanging in each room, unspoken but very present.

At the Prewett household, presents were opened early Monday morning. Harry had gotten them all a small gift and even Basil grudgingly agreed to thank him without prompting.

For Fabian and Gideon, Harry had picked out cloaks that would magically adjust to the temperature they were worn in, and Harry had added his own protective charms to them after buying them.

For Heather, Harry had gotten a complete tea set, with teas found only in the Wizarding World.

For Lily, he had chosen a small simply-designed wooden chest could hold up to a hundred books and came with a built-in table of contents and would only work for the owner's magical signature. There were already ten books inside, all on Transfiguration that Harry had been collecting since discovering Lily's passion for the subject.

For Basil, Harry had bought top-grade Quiddith gear, including gloves made of dragon hide to go with the brand-new Beater's bat Fabian had given him.

For Briar, Harry had simply taken a box and filled it with as many of Fred and George's joke shop products as he could. He had insisted on paying the twins for this one, and after a lot of wheedling and arguing, they had agreed.

And for Aster, Harry had picked out books on Defence Against the Dark Arts, as well as filled a small notebook with a list of spells he had found useful since his first year at Hogwarts. He had written an incantation and an explanation to go with each, and charmed the entire thing to show a memory of himself performing each spell if Aster wanted to see. It had taken him eight hours straight to work out that bit of magic.

And at the joke shop, the twins and Harry celebrated with a feast of their own, made personally by Harry. The black-haired wizard had told them, with a funny twisted expression, that his cooking skills had come about due to years of practice. Neither twin had asked any further after that.

They had debated back and forth on what to do with all of Harry's presents. Harry hadn't wanted anything to do with them so they had braved the snow again on Christmas Day and donated all of it to the patients in St. Mungos.

They had opened everything first, just in case there was something unsuitable for others amongst the gifts. Almost everything could go, but there was one present, wrapped in elegant red and gold paper and sent to Harry from Sirius and Remus, that did not go to St. Mungos. The twins had both made themselves scarce for a few minutes as soon as Harry peeled back the wrapping paper and found the photo album Hagrid had given him all those years ago. Harry had stared at it without expression, but when the twins came back, the album was nowhere in sight and Harry had moved on to the next gift.

Christmas passed without incident, but the new year was another matter entirely.

* * *

**Finished chapter 13! Review, review, and review some more!**


	14. And So Time Passes Part 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Note 1: Sorry for the long wait but I finally managed to get this chapter finished.**

**Note 2: So this will be Part 4 and probably last of this particular arc before the war kicks in.**

**Note 3: Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 14 – And So Time Passes (Part 4)**

_"In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing. The worst thing you can do is nothing."_

_-Theodore Roosevelt_

* * *

**-January 5****th****, 2003-**

"Alright, Briar, Basil, do behave yourselves. Lily, work hard but remember to have fun too. We'll be waiting for your letters. Aster, good luck on your NEWTs. Don't stay up too late studying. And all three of you boys look after your sister."

"Yes, Mum," Came the obedient chorus, though Lily scowled at the last part.

Harry stood a little ways away, accepting Lily's hug carefully and waving at Briar and Basil. He turned to Aster last, pulling him aside when it looked like he wanted to say something.

"What is it?"

Aster glanced at the train before asking almost anxiously, "Is it alright if I write to you too? I've packed the notes and books you gave me and I'll probably have questions sooner or later."

Harry smiled. "Of course. You know about Hedwig, right?" At Aster's nod, Harry continued, "Then I'll send her to both you and Lily to receive any mail you might have. She won't have any trouble finding your rooms."

Aster grinned, delight and relief mingling in the action. "Thanks, Harry." The whistle sounded and he turned to get on the train. "See you in a few months."

Harry raised a hand in farewell before turning his attention on Lily and her two friends all waving enthusiastically at him from an open window as the train left the station.

"Thanks for coming, Harry," Heather smiled gratefully at him as Harry began escorting her back to her car.

"It was no problem," Harry assured her. Both Fabian and Gideon had gotten wind of a raid occurring dangerously close to the Prewett household and had rushed off to fight instead. They had floo-called Harry and asked him to escort Heather and the children to the station in their place. Harry had agreed at once, much to the Lily and Aster's delight.

Harry rode with Heather back to her house, pulling up outside just as Fabian and Gideon Apparated onto the sidewalk next to them, disheveled and tired. They brightened when they spotted Harry and Heather, and after making sure the Prewett twins weren't injured, Harry left them to it, returning to the joke shop without incident, much to Fred and George's visible relief.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-January 23****rd****, 2003-**

YOU-KNOW-WHO BACK IN COUNTRY LEADS TO SUCCESSFUL ATTACK ON MINISTRY.

IS ANYONE SAFE?

_'Minister Fudge has given a statement that the Ministry has everything under control, but with the latest Death Eater raid and a terrifying appearance of You-Know-Who himself in addition to the wrongly-imprisoned Boy-Who-Lived debacle, the public wonders just how much faith they can place in the Minister's assurances.'_

Harry scoffed at the front page news of the Prophet and tossed the paper back onto the dinner table. He folded his arms and glanced out at the darkening sky again for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. Fred and George had left to help the Order with a particularly difficult fight in Italy, and while Harry had only nodded and waved them off with a cautious 'be careful', his stomach had been tight with anxiety ever since the twins had left.

As the second hand ticked away, Harry decided that it would be best to start enquiring about his hosts' whereabouts. The twins were usually back on time, sometimes early but rarely ever late, and they should have been back an hour ago.

With that thought in mind, Harry headed for the fireplace. First things first, he would check with Angelina. She might know where Fred, and by extension George, were.

Angelina had visited them over Christmas, joining them for dinner on the twenty-sixth. It had started out awkward, Harry not knowing how to treat someone who had been a friend and a bit like an older sister after he had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Angelina looking torn between wanting to talk to Harry and fleeing the shop.

In the end, Fred had all but forced them to sit down at the table. Dinner had been tense even though Fred and George had tried to alleviate the atmosphere with banter and jokes, and it wasn't until Harry, desperate for the uncomfortable tension to dissipate, grasped onto the only topic he considered safe: Quidditch.

Things had gone a little more smoothly from that point on, starting with how Angelina was doing with the Holyhead Harpies and how Katie and Alicia were, and so on and so forth. Harry never talked much after the initial prompting, merely listening to the conversation around him.

By the time dinner was over and Angelina was getting ready to leave, the air had cleared somewhat and Harry had even managed a weak smile in the Chaser's direction. Angelina had smiled back tentatively but it was Fred's hopeful look between them that made up Harry's mind. From what he had heard from Fred (and the Weasley twins were about the only people he trusted these days, with Tonks a close second, and the Prewett family somewhere down the line), Angelina had been one of the few who had sided with the twins, and while she hadn't been part of the attempted-break-out debacle, the Chaser had, quite literally, given Dumbledore the finger when the old man tried to recruit her into the Order and, when she had refused, subtly implied some sort of danger towards her family. Needless to say, that hadn't gone over well. Angelina had apparently called in some favours and had had her family smuggled off to the US before Dumbledore could do anything. The rest of Harry's old Quidditch team had done the same, so while they could no longer communicate with their families, at least they were safe.

In the end, Harry and Angelina had parted on semi-good terms and had remained cordial and distantly friendly with each other ever since. She had come over a few more times and it didn't take a genius to realize that the Chaser had been purposefully staying away from the shop before Christmas.

At the moment though, Harry would have to contact Angelina to see if the woman knew anything. But before he could reach for the floo powder, the flames turned green and Harry had his wand out and trained on the fireplace in the span of a heartbeat.

A familiar redhead stepped through, brushing soot from his clothes, only to freeze when he found himself on the wrong end of a wand.

"Err... Harry?"

Harry stared for a moment longer before slowly lowering his wand. "Bill."

Bill smiled weakly, looking faintly relieved that Harry hadn't blown his head off the second he had appeared. "Sorry for barging in like this but I thought you'd be getting worried about the twins."

Harry eyed him warily, the part of him that hadn't yet left Azkaban – and probably never would – coming up with the entirely irrational thought that the eldest Weasley was here to drag him back to that godforsaken prison.

Perhaps he picked up on some of what Harry was feeling because Bill made no move to approach, leaving his arms at his sides with his hands in plain sight as if trying to assure Harry that he meant no harm.

Harry wasn't sure whether he felt grateful or pissed.

Deciding to ignore this for now, he asked, "Where are they then?"

"St. Mungos," Bill answered promptly. "George is... he's in a bad way but the healers think he'll be alright. Fred's a bit banged up as well but he's up and about."

For a second, Harry's lungs seized and he couldn't quite remember how to breathe.

George. George had gotten hurt. George had gotten badly hurt and Fred had been injured as well and Harry hadn't been there to watch their backs and-

"Harry?"

Harry stiffened and glanced up again as Bill's tentative call yanked him out of his own head again.

"Are they-" Harry stopped. That was a stupid question. Bill had already implied that they would be alright.

"Do you want to come with me to St. Mungos?" Bill asked, the words coming out in a rush as if Bill expected him to turn him down immediately. "Or... I could keep you updated?"

Harry's first reaction was to agree to the latter suggestion. Going to St. Mungos meant being ogled at and whispered about. Going to St. Mungos meant risking a meeting with Ron or Hermione or Sirius or Remus or, Merlin forbid, Dumbledore.

But.

If he had been the one to get hurt, Fred and George would've been at the hospital in a heartbeat, bollocks to anyone who tried to stop them. And while he hated the attention and gossip, he was _Harry bloody Potter_, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-Wrongly-Accused, and no one, not even Albus Dumbledore, would have the balls to accost him in public if Harry flat-out refused.

So.

"Let's go."

**r.R.r**

Ten minutes later, Bill was still trying to fight through the throng of worried, squabbling visitors at the front desk. He had tried talking to the security guards but they had refused him entry and told him, in lofty tones that made him consider cursing them into oblivion, that he would have to wait in line like everyone else, sneering when he claimed to be part of the Order and that he had immediate access to the private wing set aside for Order members. Bill would've regretted lending his clearance pass to someone else for the day if that someone else hadn't been Fred.

As it was, he could only run a hand through his hair in frustration and wait for one of the receptionists to finish up.

"We'll never get in there at this rate," Harry remarked placidly from behind him, and Bill glanced over his shoulder at the man leaning on the opposite wall, visibly tense and unsettled by the crowd.

Bill knew Azkaban had changed the boy – man now – but it was still a shock to see the adult face staring back at him with unusual guarded wariness and closed off apathy. The teenager he had known, while not prone to fits of emotion like Ron and had been relatively quiet half the time, had still been friendly enough, a little reticent to people he didn't know but not... silent. Because this man was silent, not just quiet, utterly blank when exchanging words with Bill, and while Bill knew he had no right to complain, he couldn't help wishing Harry would warm up to him just a bit.

"Sorry, Harry," He said instead with a grimace. The twins were going to prank him if Harry had some sort of breakdown here, not to mention he was far from happy that he still hadn't been able to see his brothers yet.

"Well, might as well put it to good use," Harry sighed and Bill's confusion morphed into surprise when he stepped past him and announced loudly to a receptionist looking through the patient list (and, to Bill, rudely ignoring the majority of the clamoring around her), "Ma'am, I and my companion have family we wish to visit. Would you be so kind as to grant us access upstairs?"

The receptionist didn't even bother looking up, replying in an irritatingly patronizing tone, "You'll have to wait at the end of the line-"

"-Mr. Potter," Harry finished coolly, and Bill could admit to a little vindictive glee when the woman's head shot up so fast she seemed to have given herself whiplash.

Her eyes automatically flicked up to the scar partially hidden under Harry's bangs before spluttering, "O- Of course, Mr. Potter. Right this way."

By now, half the room was watching them with wide eyes and their voices swelled around them in a mixture of awe and interest. Bill pinned them all with an uncharacteristically sharp glare and made sure to ward off the more presumptuous witches and wizards who seemed to be trying to touch Harry or at least talk to him.

"Useful," He commented as they were ushered past the security guards by the flustered woman and directed to the top floor.

Harry just shrugged. "Fame has its uses."

His tone was unsurprisingly bitter and Bill said nothing more. He didn't think there was anything to say that would make Harry feel better in this situation anyway.

**r.R.r**

Harry knew he wouldn't be able to make it all the way to the room Fred and George were staying in without bumping into someone he knew – he would see the other Weasleys at the very least – but he wasn't expecting what looked like half the Order all lounging in the private waiting room as he and Bill stepped inside.

In the span of a heartbeat, every single eye had flickered past Bill and focused on Harry, momentarily freezing him to the spot as he found himself the center of attention once more.

Wonderful.

Jaw tightening involuntarily as the walls seemed to start closing in on him, Harry took a subtle fortifying breath and concentrated on where he was. He would not show weakness in front of people he didn't trust.

"Wotcher, Harry!" A bright voice made him glance up and he felt himself relax ever-so-slightly as familiar hot pink caught his eye.

"Wotcher, Tonks," Harry greeted in return, giving the rest of the room as wide a berth as he could as he made his way to his mentor's side. He automatically checked for injuries, something he had taken to doing both because of Tonks' clumsiness and her participation in the war.

Tonks grinned warmly at him, keeping her hands in his line of sight before she slung an arm around his shoulders.

"You are such a mother hen," She teased. "Honestly, I am a trained Auror, you know."

Harry scowled back good-naturedly, not quite managing a smile but relaxing even further as she instinctively drew him away from the people that were staring at him as if he was the second coming of Merlin.

"Says the person who gets defeated by-" He paused long enough to catch the Metamorphmagus by the elbow as she tripped over the leg of a chair. "-furniture on a daily basis."

"You distracted me," Tonks huffed as she righted herself again, her hair flashing bright red before shimmering back to fuchsia.

"Of course," Harry agreed sardonically. "Just like all those other times."

Tonks just flashed another grin in his direction. "Exactly. Glad you understand."

Harry was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes but a movement at the corner of his eye made him stiffen once more and his attention mechanically shifted to what he subconsciously labelled a threat.

His world was a sad place when he considered his own godfather a danger to him.

Apparently, Sirius thought so too because the man's shoulders sagged and he shuffled back meekly, clearly not wanting to set Harry off in any way. His face was haggard and he looked unhealthily thin, as if he hadn't been eating properly for a long while.

Forcefully, Harry shoved away the tiny spark of guilt in his heart, beating it down with cold reminders of what Sirius had done. The man deserved no pity, especially his.

He jumped when gentle fingers touched his shoulder and almost whipped out his wand right then and there. He spun, unconsciously placing Tonks firmly behind him as his gaze landed on a blonde-haired, silver-eyed woman, and it only took Harry a few seconds to drag the memory of this person standing beside Neville to the forefront of his mind.

If anything, the tension in the room rose another notch but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"Hi," She smiled at him, the action soft and sincere. "I'm Luna Lovegood. Did you know you have a Wrackspurt on your shoulder?"

Harry stiffened, his eyes flickering briefly to his right shoulder before shifting back to Luna. A groan sounded from the left.

"Aw, c'mon, Luna, not that again!" Ron reproached loudly. "There's nothing on Harry's shoulder. Wrackspurts don't exist!"

Luna completely ignored him, still staring intently at Harry. Harry stared back, his expression shuttered as it usually did around everyone besides the twins these days.

"What's a Wrackspurt?" He finally asked. Ron seemed to disapprove of whatever Luna was talking about so Harry was perfectly content to enquire about them.

"Oh, they're invisible," Luna said earnestly. "And they can help protect you. They guard your mind, you see. They make some painful things in your brain all fuzzy so they won't hurt you."

Harry tilted his head. What an odd woman. True, some of the worst memories of Azkaban, while not completely gone, were, as she said, fuzzy, but he didn't think it was because of Wrackspurts. But Luna didn't seem to be lying and Harry had gotten quite adept at detecting lies. She truly believed what she was saying and certainly did not appreciate Ron slandering her beliefs, which was something Harry could completely understand.

"Do they?" He said out loud. "And I have one?"

Luna shook her head. "You have one on your shoulder," She corrected. "But you have plenty more hovering around you. They all want to help."

She finished with another whimsical smile and Harry almost smiled back. He was almost... comfortable in this woman's presence. She expected nothing from him; not forgiveness, not blame, not truths. She was simply conversing with him like he was any other wizard on the block. She was a bit strange, but Harry preferred weird to people trying to babble apologies and get him to talk about his feelings on the matter.

So he decided to see what she would do if he reciprocated. He knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life hiding out in the twins' shop – that would be ridiculous – and sooner or later – preferably later – he would have to exchange at least a few stiff words with the people around him. Luna hadn't been a friend, hadn't been able to desert him, so perhaps he could at least make her acquaintance properly.

"I'm Harry," He said, his voice almost echoing in the stillness of the room. "Thanks for telling me. I didn't know."

Luna's smile widened. "Not many people do. Don't worry though. The wrackspurts won't hurt you."

And with that said, she glided away, taking a seat next to a pale-faced Neville who couldn't quite seem to meet Harry's eyes but had an oddly relieved look on his face nevertheless.

In the stilted silence that followed in which no one knew what to say, a hoarse voice came from down the hall.

"Harry?"

Harry whirled around, eyes immediately finding Fred who was limping towards him. In a flash, he was at the twin's side, chest tight with anxiety as he allowed the tired redhead to slump against him, quickly helping him into the nearest plastic chair.

"I didn't expect you here," Despite his exhaustion, Fred looked highly pleased, thought that soon disappeared when Molly bustled up and Harry slipped away to stand rigidly off to the side.

"Oh Freddie, when I got the floo-call from Albus that you two had been injured-!" A sob wrenched itself from Molly's throat as she engulfed her son in a hug. "Why aren't you lying down? Is George alright? No one will tell us anything!"

"Mum! Mum, let go!" Fred wriggled from the Weasley matriarch's grip, running a hand through his hair as he looked pointedly over at Harry. "George is going to be fine but he'll have to stay off his feet for three weeks. A nasty Bone-Shattering Hex got him, bad enough that the healers want him to take it easy for a while."

Harry felt something loosen in his stomach and he released a sigh of relief as he nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'll help out around the shop," He offered, keeping a tight lid on the rush of trepidation he felt at this suggestion but forging on nonetheless. He couldn't keep hiding every time the twins had customers coming in.

Fred flashed an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Harry. That'd be great."

Harry made a noncommittal sound and wondered if he should head back to the shop now. He had assurance from Fred himself that his twin was fine, and a careful inventory of the injuries Fred had gotten told him that they weren't too serious either. He wanted to see George though, just a quick peek, but he wasn't family and he didn't particularly like flaunting his fame and forcing his way in if some healer decided to stop him.

Fred made his decision for him. "C'mon, Harry. George is awake, if a bit groggy. He'll want to see you."

Still, Harry remained unmoving from his spot. The rest of the Weasleys weren't in his good books but that was their son and brother in there. It wouldn't be right to go in before them, even with Fred's permission.

"I'm a bit tired," He muttered, taking a seat in a nearby chair. "Mind if I see him in ten minutes?"

It wasn't exactly the best lie in the world and the silence that ensued told Harry that everyone and their grandma knew it, but Harry remained staring determinedly at his clasped hands, doggedly ignoring the people around him.

"Sure thing, Harry," Fred agreed, and Harry glanced up at him. His host looked back with a mix of frustration and respect on his face, as if he thought Harry had made the right decision but not one that the twin liked.

Harry just nodded and leaned back, not minding when Tonks dragged a chair over and sat down next to him. He made sure not to look up, quite certain that most of the Weasleys in the room would be trying to catch his eye as they trooped after Fred.

"So how have your latest studies been going?" Tonks asked innocently, and Harry knew she was talking about his attempts at becoming an Animagus.

"Not good," He said. "I managed to finish the first part but the second isn't coming along so well."

Tonks stared at him, all traces of humour gone from her face. "You _finished_ the first part?"

Harry blinked back, confused. He had managed to see what his animal was; that had been accomplished in the first month. "Yes, but not the second."

A moment of silence, and then Tonks' hair turned bright yellow, perking up in the air in celebration. "Harry, that's amazing! You started in October and it's only January! I thought it would be at least half a year before you managed to get it."

"Oh," Harry tilted his head, brow furrowing. "That's a good thing then?"

"Of course!" Tonks exclaimed. "I can't wait until you finish. I just know it'll be amazing!"

Harry managed a half-smile this time. Tonks always made sure he understood what she taught and gave out praise as much as she did criticism, and her duelling skills were top notch despite her clumsiness off the field; Harry had no idea why she was still a junior Auror.

Harry stayed quiet as Tonks told him about the fights she had been in and the news she had gotten about other parts of Europe. It wasn't long before the Weasleys returned with Fred making a beeline to where Harry was sitting.

"Alright, your turn now," Fred announced before sweeping a dramatic bow. "Lord Potter, if you would come this way please. Your indentured servant shall lead you to Sir George's domain where you can ream him out for his unforgivable carelessness in battle."

Harry couldn't stop the genuine smile that spread over his face at this. For two people who were already in their twenties, the twins could always be counted on for their jokes.

"Only if said indentured servant doesn't fall over along the way," Harry pointed out dryly as he moved forward to support some of Fred's weight. Honestly, there was a time and place for everything, and while Fred's humour was appreciated, the bow wasn't, especially when the redhead looked dead on his feet behind the teasing grin.

Fred huffed and slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. While he was still too thin, Harry had managed to put on a bit of muscle thanks to Tonks' training and could take the extra weight without toppling over.

"George?"

At Harry's call, George looked up, sore and tired and thoroughly pissed at the Death Eater who had gotten in a lucky shot but more than a little happy that the younger man had ventured out of the shop and into a crowded hospital to see him.

"Hey Harry," He greeted. "Fancy seeing you here."

Green eyes glowered down at him for his flippant attitude and George quickly plastered on his best I'm-injured-pity-me pout. Harry just scoffed and rolled his eyes as he took a seat at the end of George's bed after helping Fred into the nearest chair.

"Idiot," Harry scolded. "I was worried. You could've gotten killed and I wouldn't have known until the funeral."

"How did you know?" Fred asked curiously. "I know we were late but you couldn't have known for sure that we would be here."

"Bill came to get me," Harry explained. "I was all for contacting Angelina but he flooed over before I could." A slight grimace made its way onto his face. "Almost hexed him to kingdom come when he came through."

Twin snorts answered him and the three soon fell into comfortable banter until a nurse came and ushered Harry out, her eyes bulging when she caught sight of his scar. The woman immediately offered to let him stay but Harry declined and waved goodbye to the twins before slipping out.

Now he just had to make it back to the shop without being waylaid. Too bad the Potter luck just wouldn't give him a break.

**r.R.r**

Sirius' lungs had seized the moment Harry had stepped inside the waiting room. He hadn't expected to see his godson, especially since the boy – man, he reminded himself again – would have to walk straight into Order territory.

Besides Tonks, no one else dared speak to Harry as he entered, and no one dared stop him as he left, waving goodbye to Fred.

Now, Sirius was a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them. Okay, maybe stupid _was_ one of them, but usually, it wasn't. So he knew that following Harry was a Bad Idea – with capitals on both and a deadly glare from Remus sort of bad idea – but he simply couldn't let Harry walk away without at least attempting to talk to him.

So, with sweaty palms and a tight chest, Sirius slipped out after his godson, thankful that Remus had only given him a resigned shake of his head before letting him go, and hurried after the cloaked figure.

"Harry?" His voice involuntarily cracked and he cleared his throat before calling out again as the man in question disappeared around a corner. "Harry, wait!"

He sped up and rounded the corner, only to collide with Harry's back as he did so. He leapt back faster than he would've had he been burned and frantically waved his hands.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" He babbled helplessly. He shuddered when darkened green eyes, no longer vibrant and warm, turned to stare at him.

Harry had never been the most open of people. When Sirius had first taken a good look at him after the whole Secret Keeper business had been cleared up, he had been startled and somewhat troubled when he saw how wary Harry had been. Granted, Harry didn't know him very well at the time but his godson's gestures and words, while friendly and polite, were also distant, unlike Lily and James who were always approachable and cheerful. Harry on the other hand was... guarded.

The man before him was _leagues_ beyond guarded, and the fact that _Sirius_ had played a part in putting that diffidence there killed him more than words could say.

"What do you want?" Harry's voice was flat and hard.

Sirius swallowed hard and stammered out weakly, "I- I just wanted to know how you were. How- How have you been?"

"Fine," Harry returned emotionlessly. "If that's all..."

He turned to leave and Sirius couldn't stop his hand from shooting out latching onto Harry's arm, his mind panicking when it registered that there was no way of knowing when Sirius would see him again. But he instantly regretted it when his godson flinched and pulled away, hand diving into his cloak for his wand as he backed away.

"Don't touch me," Harry hissed, the shadows dimming his green eyes even further.

"I'm sorry," Sirius mumbled, mentally berating himself. Why couldn't he do anything right? "I- I didn't mean to do that."

Either Harry had taken pity on him – which wasn't likely – or he just wanted to be rid of Sirius as fast as possible – which was far more likely. Either way, Harry asked forcefully, "What do you want, Sirius? You want me to forgive you? Is that it? So we can be one big happy family again?"

Sirius hastily shook his head and blurted out, "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness; I'm not asking for it. I'm the shittiest godfather imaginable and I would have to be absolutely mental to expect anything of the sort from you. But I- I just want you to know that if you ever need anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask, and I'll do it."

It wasn't the most eloquent thing he had ever said but he wanted, _needed_, Harry to understand that anything Sirius could provide was his for the taking.

For a long minute, his godson only stared back at him, unresponsive and features akin to being carved from stone. And then an eerie glint entered his eyes, one that sent a chill down Sirius' spine because he recognized it for what it was and it terrified him. He had seen it in his psychotic cousin's eyes and even in his own. The madness in them was unmistakable, and it scared him because this was hard proof that Azkaban had changed Harry, more than the bags under his eyes or the pale skin drawn tight over his cheekbones.

"Anything? So if I tell you to go and die," Harry said ruthlessly, a humourless almost-smile tilting his lips. "You'd do it?"

Sirius swallowed again but didn't hesitate in answering. "Yes," He rasped out hoarsely, gaze never wavering from his godson. "If you asked it of me, I'd Avada Kedavra myself right here and now."

A sharp intake of breath sounded behind him and Sirius didn't need to look around to know that Remus was listening in, just out of sight. He didn't take back his words though. At this point, death would be merciful, and he would honestly do anything for Harry. If his godson wanted him dead, Sirius would kill himself in a heartbeat.

The glint seemed to sharpen and Sirius was positive that Harry would demand his death right then and there, but then he blinked and the glint receded and the shadows returned, and Harry turned away, wrapping himself tighter in his cloak.

"I don't want anything from you, Sirius," He said wearily. "I'm fine on my own."

And Sirius was left watching the most important person in his life walk away once again, powerless to do anything to mend the rift between them.

"Would you really?" Remus asked as he stepped up beside him.

"Yes," Sirius whispered without pause, glancing down at the wand that his hand had readily reached for the moment Harry had suggested his suicide.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-February 12****st****, 2003-**

Harry finished off another letter to Aster and Lily and sent Hedwig on her way before hurrying back downstairs to help out with the shop.

George had been stupid and had tried hobbling around before his bones had completely healed, resulting in a painful fall down the stairs and a repeat performance of the healer shouting at him for his recklessness. Thus, Harry had had to take over once more in the running of the shop.

It hadn't taken long for word to get out that Harry Potter was working at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes and people came in flocks to catch a glimpse of him. He supposed it wasn't too bad since people only gawked at him until he pinned them with a glare that he was starting to realize seemed to have lethal properties in it. Anyone he pinned with that look hastily bought the first thing they could get their hands on and sped out the door. It didn't keep them away for long but it was better than being gaped at all day.

It had also helped take his mind off Sirius' words. Sirius' _promise_.

Ever since he had been freed, a part of him had felt clinically detached from the rest of his mind and it had taken over that day in the hospital without warning. Harry had managed to push it back but he didn't need to be a bloody genius to realize just how badly Azkaban had affected him.

He didn't know what to do about it but it hadn't happened since and Harry was content with a silent promise that he would make himself scarce should he ever lose himself to that madness when he was around the few people he still cared about. Fred and George wouldn't be very pleased but it was better than the alternative in which Harry _really_ lost it and went batshit insane, which would probably only lead to blood and body bags.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-March 13****th****, 2003-**

Albus frowned as he watched the Snowy Owl wing its way towards the Forbidden Forest and beyond. If he hadn't forgotten to retrieve a stack of paperwork from Minerva, he would have missed the sight of the bird.

The owl was familiar and it only took a few seconds to recall that Harry Potter had a Snowy Owl as well. Hedwig, he remembered, but the bird had disappeared a long time ago, most likely dead. No pet, even a post owl could survive for so long, and then reappear when its Master was freed.

Albus briefly entertained the idea that Hedwig had been Harry's familiar but no one that young could bond with an animal. Nevertheless, he would keep a closer eye on the post owls on the off-chance that Harry was in contact with someone he was not supposed to be.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-April 19****th****, 2003-**

_April 18__th__, 2003_

_Sage,_

_Sorry I haven't written in a while. This will be a short letter since I'm quite busy with schoolwork. The weather is getting better here; good enough that birds and the other students' pets have started wandering outside. There'll be goats grazing on the lawn before you know it!_

_Anyway, my NEWTs are coming up soon and I'm studying hard. People have been trying to get at my notes and it's really starting to annoy. Lil's working hard on her studies as well though Basil and Briar are both still goofing off. I'll have to have another talk with them soon. Hopefully, they'll listen and get their acts together or Mother will not be pleased._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Aster_

Harry frowned at this latest letter. He hadn't heard from Aster or Lily in over a month and it seemed he had finally figured out why.

Sage was the name of a flower that Lily had decided for him. She claimed that it meant wisdom and great respect, both things Lily had thought fitted Harry. Aster had agreed and the name had stuck.

The letter itself was strange. Much shorter than what Aster usually composed and no mention of Defense or Transfiguration or any other subject either. Harry quickly picked out the most important parts though.

'Goats grazing on the lawn' wasn't just a joke; goats meant Dumbledore and grazing on the lawn meant that the meddling Headmaster was poking his crooked nose into his kids' – and yes, somewhere along the way, Lily and Aster had become sort-of-kind-of his – business.

Aster had never had a problem with sharing his notes which meant that someone had either been interfering with the mail or had gotten a glimpse at the notes Harry had given Aster and wanted them for themselves. Combined with the mention of goats and Harry was willing to bet that Dumbledore had somehow gotten suspicious of the Prewett family and was trying to determine if they were in contact with the Weasleys.

And finally, something as formal as 'awaiting your reply' wasn't Aster's style, at least not when he was writing to Harry, which meant that the eighteen-year-old was waiting for Harry to tell him what to do in a case like this. Most likely, the mention of his siblings implied that Aster would wrangle his brothers and sister into whatever Harry needed them to be as well.

Stay low, Harry immediately thought, reaching for parchment. Keep their heads down. And in the meantime, Harry would go straight to Fabian and Gideon and discuss this newest development. They couldn't afford to slip up now, not when all four Prewett kids were still at Hogwarts.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-April 20****th****, 2003-**

Heather had ranted and raved for a good half hour at 'that old goat Dumbledore' and Fabian shuddered to think what she would do if and when the old Headmaster did something more than just poke around. It probably didn't help his case that, because of Dumbledore, their children hadn't been able to write home at all, in fear of their mail being intercepted and slipping up with a careless word or two.

Before the children had left for the rest of the school year, he and Gideon had filled Aster in on everything – from their relatives to Dumbledore's manipulations to the reason why Harry was in hiding – and had told their other three kids to pass their letters to Aster for inspection before sending them off. They stressed the importance of this and even Basil had agreed after seeing the stressed look on their mother's face.

Fabian had made sure all of his kids knew, or at least was in the process of learning, Occlumency since they were in a time of war. So far, only Aster had gotten to be fairly adept at it so Fabian wasn't too worried that Dumbledore would find out through him. Not to mention he would kill the old bastard himself if he dared poke around in his son's head.

"Maybe we should withdraw them," Gideon suggested when Heather finally took a breather. "I mean it's not like we can't teach them, right?"

Fabian exchanged a glance with his wife who was frowning.

"Can you really teach them everything here?" She wondered.

"If we withdraw them, we can tell them the truth," Fabian thought out loud. "Molly could help-"

"I am sorry, Fabian," Heather cut in, a steely glint entering her eyes. "She is your sister and I won't object to the kids getting to know her and her family, but that is where it ends. I won't allow her to have a hand in my children's education."

Both Fabian and Gideon gaped at her.

"Why not?" Fabian asked, thoroughly confused.

"Why should I?" Heather countered loftily. "Have you forgotten what these Weasleys have done? Harry's a good influence on our children and I won't see him avoid this house because we decided to invite your family over instead."

Gideon sighed at this. "Heather, I understand what you're getting at here but Molly's our sister and we've been apart long enough."

"Well that's hardly my fault," Heather returned testily. "I've always said, haven't I? Ever since I found out, I've always told you two to get your acts together and resolve your family problems. And anyone blind enough to look at Harry and see nothing but a cold-blooded murderer is either insane or stupid. That young man has suffered enough; when he comes over, I don't want him to have to continually worry about unwanted visitors!"

"Heather, that's a bit harsh," Fabian protested half-heartedly.

"Harry's certainly done more for this family than they have," Heather shot back fiercely. "Even now, he's keeping an eye on our children and he's supposed to be in hiding. No Fabian. A couple of dinners, fine, but Harry gets first say in visiting rights."

A long silence followed before Fabian sighed in defeat and nodded, Gideon following suit.

"You're right, of course," Gideon ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in the movement. "I still don't know what Molly was thinking."

"Obviously, she wasn't," Heather retorted irritably. The letter Harry had handed them clearly still wasn't sitting well with the woman. "Why anyone would want to believe this old fruitcake of a geezer is beyond me."

Despite the situation, Fabian had to smother a laugh. Forget the Dark Lord; if Dumbledore laid a finger on any of their children, he'd meet his match in Fabian's wife.

"I think, for now, we should just make sure the kids come home safely," Fabian said slowly. "We'll have all summer to decide what to do. If, come September, we decide that it would be best if they were homeschooled, then we'll withdraw them at that time."

Gideon nodded in agreement. "Sounds good. Aster will be done by then anyway so it'll just be the younger three we'll have to worry about."

"Wait, what do you mean 'make sure the kids come home safely'?" Heather interjected, suddenly alarmed. "You don't think- Would Dumbledore really stop our children from returning? That's kidnapping!"

"Even before we found out the truth, Dumbledore's always been fond of spouting his goals for the Greater Good," Fabian explained grimly. "I honestly believe he thinks that everything he does, good or bad, can be forgiven because of that reason. In addition to that, he's also the leader of the Light and that alone gives him a lot of leeway when it comes to the law. I wouldn't be surprised if he somehow wiggled out of punishment should he really kidnap a couple of kids."

"The Greater Good?" Heather repeated, voice pitched low in a way that told them she was about to erupt. "The Greater Good? What kind of bloody wanker would accept that kind of explanation?! Who does this- this _bastard_ think he is to believe that he can do whatever he wants and manipulate the people around him like pawns?!"

"Heather, calm down," Fabian soothed, placing a cautious hand on his wife's shoulder. "He's Albus Dumbledore; that alone is enough reason apparently. 'For the Greater Good' is his standard response. The power's gotten to his head; that much I believe. But if the kids keep their heads down as Harry suggested, I'm sure they'll be on the Hogwarts train come June."

Heather took a deep breath and in the next second, instead of fury at the situation, Fabian suddenly found himself with an armful of his wife. The unmistakable tears that soaked into his shirt sent a rush of pure rage at the blasted old fool for playing them like pawns.

"Three of them are still underage, Fabian," Heather sobbed. "And Aster is only just graduating. I worry enough when you and Gideon are out there fighting and now we have to worry about someone who's supposed to protect children for a living but doesn't because our lives are all forfeit for the Greater Good?"

Fabian could only repeat his reassurances as he rocked his wife and shared a grave look with his brother over her head.

"They're going to be fine, Heather," Fabian said firmly. "You'll see. We won't let anything happen to them."

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-June 20****th****, 2003-**

"I know it's short notice but I really need someone I trust with me at the station. Fabian and Gideon said they'd be back in time but I should've left ten minutes ago and they're still not here."

Harry frowned. "No problem, Heather. Step back; I'm coming through."

He caught the flash of relief on her face before she disappeared, and a moment later, Harry's face was meeting the carpet as the grate spat him out in the Prewett home.

"I hate the floo," Harry muttered, and he was rewarded by a shaky but genuine laugh from Heather as the woman helped him up.

"Where are Fabian and Gideon?" Harry asked as he dusted the soot from his robes.

"The goat called them," Heather said darkly. She had refused to call Dumbledore anything else ever since the fateful letter in April. "He said it was urgent and insisted on their presence. Said it wouldn't take long at all and that they would be back in time to pick up the kids but I haven't heard from them since."

Harry spared half a moment on this before nodding decisively. "Alright, we'll pick up the kids first, get all of you to safety, and then worry about your husband and brother-in-law. If he called them because he suspects that they've told someone about their existence, Dumbledore wouldn't dare do anything to them."

Heather nodded determinedly and they hurried outside before Harry wrapped a gentle arm around her waist and Apparated them to the station.

**r.R.r**

"There's the train," Heather pointed out needlessly as she wrung her hands nervously. If they weren't on it, so help her she would strangle Dumbledore with her bare hands.

Harry only nodded, his eyes sweeping the length and breadth of the station for any sign of danger. Heather couldn't help the fond smile that spread over her face. The young man had only just met them not a year ago and he was already protecting them as if he had known them for ages.

"There's Aster," Harry said quietly, nodding at the tall dark-haired boy – man, Heather corrected herself with a thrum of nostalgia – striding towards them. "Get your kids and then we're out of here. I'm going to check the barrier."

Heather nodded and scooted off, making a beeline through the babbling throng of parents and siblings.

"Hey Mum," Aster greeted, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she reached them. "Briar and Basil's right behind me and Lily's just saying goodbye to her friends. Where are Dad and Uncle Gideon?"

"Not right now, sweetheart," Heather murmured, searching the crowd fervently for her other kids. "I'll explain everything later. Basil, Briar! We're in a bit of a hurry!"

Her other two sons scampered over, struggling with their trunks and brooms.

"What's going on, Mum?" Basil demanded as soon as they reached her. "Dumbledore's been sniffing around us, wanting to look at Lily's letters. Is this because of Harry? Did he do something wrong?"

"Don't be a prat, Basil," Briar interrupted tersely. "Harry's like a brother to Lily. He'd never put her in danger on purpose."

"Well he's not, is he?" Basil snapped back hotly. "He's not even family-"

"That's enough, you two," Aster cut in sharply. "We'll talk about this later. Where's Lily?"

"Here, Aster," Lily tripped up towards them, her owl cage in one hand and her trunk in the other. "Where- Mum!"

The shriek of panic from her daughter had Heather whirling around, instinctively herding her children behind her. She didn't object when Aster stepped up beside her and pulled out his wand.

"Ma'am, I'm Auror Thompson," The woman said briskly as she strode up to them with a contingent of uniform-clad Aurors behind her. "We'd like you to come with us. Headmaster Dumbledore has determined that your family is in danger and we have a safe place for you to go into hiding. Your husband and brother-in-law will meet you there."

Heather felt fear rush through her but she ignored it and squared her shoulders. "No, thank you. I believe we'll be just fine. I will be taking my children home, as I'm sure my husband would want me to."

The smile Thompson had had hardened. "Ma'am, I'm not sure you quite understand the situation. You are in danger-"

"Then we'll simply have to chance it," Heather said tightly. "If you'll excuse me-"

The words withered in her throat as the woman pulled out her wand, promptly followed by all the other Aurors. There was a gathering crowd around them; surely the woman wouldn't hurt them in the middle of the train station? A near-silent growl rumbled from her eldest son's chest as he stepped in front of her, wand out.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Thompson said, no longer smiling. "We have specific orders to get you to the safe house using any means necessary."

Heather couldn't use magic and she could only watch helplessly as the Aurors raised their wands with only her son as a buffer.

"That's called abduction, you realize," A slightly hoarse voice interrupted from behind them and Heather almost slumped in relief. "Unless you've got some sort of warrant or legal reason to bring them in, you're breaking the law."

Harry stepped up beside them, wand out as he slipped Heather a notebook and a piece of paper in the process. She had already been told how a portkey activated and, covered by Harry and her eldest, Heather subtly motioned for her children to gather close before scanning the note.

_Take the kids out of here. I'll take care of Aster. Wait for my signal. Password is Hedwig. Do not leave when you get to your destination._

Briar, Basil, and Lily all huddled closer, making sure they had their things in hand as their hands closed on the notebook. Heather glanced over at Harry and waited.

"Mr. Potter," Thompson was saying, her eyes narrowed. "What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting you here."

"Nor was I," Harry returned coldly. "I wasn't aware it was new Ministry policy to harass women and children on their way home."

"Do not think that you are above the law simply because you are Harry Potter," The woman sneered, drawing herself up. "If you use that wand on us, we will be legally bound to confiscate it. The same goes for the boy."

Harry shrugged and pocketed his wand. His other hand reached out to lower Aster's arm, who grudgingly did so but didn't put it away.

"I don't plan on using it," He said idly. "I am here to accompany them home. This is your last warning. Please step out of the way and let us pass."

Thompson smiled again, the expression humourless. "I think not."

Harry nodded and shot a look at Heather, who whispered the password and felt a tug in her gut before she and her youngest three were whisked away.

Thompson didn't even have time to screech in shock and outrage before Harry had grabbed a stunned Aster by the arm, shrunk his belongings and pocketed them, and blasted towards the barrier.

"Stop them! Stop them!" Thompson yelled, and stunners came flying towards the two runaways as they sprinted across the station.

"Protego!" Aster shouted, pointing his wand over his shoulder, and grinned when a shield sprang up and deflected the spells. He glanced over at Harry and was rewarded with a nod of approval.

"No offensive spells," The older man instructed. "Defensive only. We don't want to give these people any reason to arrest us."

Aster nodded obediently and then almost tripped when Harry jerked him out of the way of an oncoming hex before throwing up a shield of his own.

They dove out of the barrier, bursting onto King's Cross Station, and before Aster could blink, his surrogate brother had wrapped an iron arm around him and Apparated them both out of there, leaving a delegation of frustrated Aurors in their wake.


	15. What is Easy or What is Right

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

* * *

**Chapter 15 – What is Easy or What is Right**

"_More evil gets done in the name of righteousness than any other way."  
-Glen Cook, __Dreams of Steel_

* * *

**-June 21****st****, 2003-**

HARRY POTTER HUNTED BY MINISTRY AURORS!

THE MINISTRY, MONSTERS OR MORONS?

_'In yet another turn of events, Harry Potter, released from a wrongful imprisonment in Azkaban only a year ago, was spotted on Platform 9¾, once again pursued by Aurors, a delegation led by Auror Agnes Thompson. After the last disastrous bungle of the Ministry concerning the Boy-Who-Lived, the public are inclined to believe that the British government, for lack of anything better to do, has once again chosen to harass Mr. Potter without cause. Witnesses claim that Mr. Potter was simply defending a mother and her children from an illegal arrest attempt, one eyewitness even stating that it was a 'suspicious attempt at arresting an innocent family without reason'. Mr. Potter has only recently returned to us; to hassle him again so soon, or indeed, at all, could only be the act of ones who either lack the proper mental capabilities of common sense or the act of a government that can fall no further.' (See P3 for full story) – Rita Skeeter_

**r.R.r**

In Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black stumbled downstairs after a restless night, bleary-eyed and still tired. He made a cup of coffee for himself and picked up the _Prophet_ that was delivered everyday by a post owl keyed in to the wards.

Sirius Black, godfather to one Harry Potter, took a gulp of the bitter liquid in hand, unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page headlines, and promptly sprayed his mouthful of coffee all over the kitchen counter.

"DUMBLEDORE!"

**r.R.r**

In the Burrow, only recently rebuilt after it had been blown up several years ago and warded with everything the Order could think of, Bill Weasley yawned as he shuffled into the kitchen, murmuring a good morning to his mother who was already making breakfast, and opened a window for the post owl delivering the _Prophet_.

Bill Weasley, still half-asleep after stopping yesterday's late-night raid, could not, for the life of him, comprehend the headlines for several long seconds.

"Bill, dear, what's wrong?" Molly asked distractedly as she bustled past him with her a pan.

The eldest Weasley son idly wondered how big a blow-up this would cause as he answered his mother. "Harry was chased by Aurors yesterday. Auror Thompson's mentioned. She works for Dumbledore, doesn't-"

The Burrow descended into chaos as Molly's shriek of "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE?!" drowned out the last of Bill's words and woke the rest of the house.

**r.R.r**

In Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley, neither of which had a very good night's sleep after coming back late from stopping a raid and discovering their houseguest missing, scanned the _Prophet_'s headlines with rapidly rising tempers before heading for their fireplace. Come hell or high water, Albus Dumbledore would be getting cursed today at least twice.

**r.R.r**

At Hogwarts, Severus Snape calmly took one look at the morning paper before putting it down and proceeding to eat his breakfast as excruciatingly slow as he could humanly manage. He wanted no part in the newest Potter scheme Albus had cooked up this time.

**r.R.r**

At the Ministry, Amelia Bones put one foot through her department's main door and knew it was going to be _one of those days_. Her fears were confirmed when her secretary rushed up to her and all but shoved the morning paper into her hands.

One look at the headlines had her shouting for Fudge's head.

**r.R.r**

In Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy stared at the newest bollocks that the _Prophet_ had managed to come up with before looking at his father sitting across the dining table.

"Is this a joke?" Draco asked, waving the paper in the air.

Lucius Malfoy, who was planning on visiting Severus at the earliest opportunity for a Headache-Relieving Potion after spending most of last night bowing to the Dark Lord's whims, hadn't yet read the newspaper. At the moment, he really couldn't care less but his son had such an uncharacteristically dumbfounded look on his face that Lucius reluctantly arched an enquiring eyebrow.

In response, Draco pushed the paper across the table and Lucius Malfoy's headache swiftly became a migraine. He absently wondered how Severus was taking this news and then decided that the Potions Master was probably ignoring it to the best of his ability. Lucius Malfoy rather thought the man had the right way of it and he proceeded to take a leaf out of his old friend's book. Albus Bloody Dumbledore would be receiving no help from him.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-June 20****th****, 2003 (Fifteen Hours Prior)-**

Aster stumbled as they landed on polished wooden floor, almost falling on his face before Harry yanked him upright again.

"Sorry about that," The older man apologized. "Had to get away fast. Your family should be-"

"Aster!"

Half a second later, Aster found himself squeezed breathless as his mother tackled him with a tight hug.

"I'm fine, Mum," He assured, hugging her back. "Harry made sure I got out of there. Those Aurors didn't even touch us."

He was a little embarrassed when his mother let go and wiped a few stray tears from her eyes before pulling herself back together again. And then he had an armful of Lily to contend with and two brothers moving forward to make sure he was alright, and it was five minutes later before they were all seated in an empty but near-sparkling dining room.

"So where are we?" Heather started, glancing around with unconcealed awe. "We arrived a few minutes before you did. This place is huge."

"Potter Manor, in Nottinghamshire," Harry's mouth twisted into a not-quite-smile as he waved a hand in the air. "It's my family's oldest home. It used to belong to Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin a long time ago."

"Slytherin?" Basil leaned forward with a frown. "Why would Slytherin live with Gryffindor?"

"They used to be friends," Harry explained. "They customized this place to their own specifications. Only one accepted by the wards and capable of Parseltongue can navigate its secret passages." He paused before forging on with an unreadable expression. "I'm a Parslemouth by the way. Just thought I'd get it out there."

Basil recoiled, blurting out, "Then you're ev- ow!"

Aster had reached over and whacked him upside the head. "Don't even finish that sentence, Basil! It's just a language!" He said sharply before turning back to Harry apologetically. "Sorry. He doesn't think before he speaks."

Harry shrugged a little but his features remained closed off and Aster knew the damage had been done. Before he could go about rectifying it though, the older man continued with his explanation.

"I checked this place out after I found out about it last year. It's got the strongest wards known to wizard-kind. There's the Entrance Hall; Dining Hall, which we're in; Library, though I'll have to ask you to stay off the second floor – it's warded and sealed anyway since it contains... books not fit for children; a few Drawing Rooms; the East and West Wing Sleeping Quarters, and again, I'll have to ask you to stay away from the West Wing – that was Slytherin's domain; and Potions Labs in the basement. There are still other rooms of course but those are the ones you'll need to know. You'll be safe here. Feel free to make yourselves at home until I find where Fabian and Gideon's gotten to. Questions?"

Lily spoke up, looking anxious. "You'll be able to find Daddy and Uncle Gideon, right?"

"Of course," Harry promised. "In fact, I already know where to look."

Lily released a sigh of relief, missing the look Harry shared with her mother over her head as she sat back.

Briar's hand shot up next. "I saw a Quidditch pitch outside. Can I go flying?" He caught his mother's eye. "_May_ I go flying please?"

The shuttered expression relaxed a little and the faintest of smiles even twitched at the corners of Harry's lips as the man nodded. "Of course. The wards extend for miles around. Just stay on the pitch and don't fly off the main property."

Briar grinned. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry nodded and got to his feet. "Now then, Calla!"

A House Elf appeared with a crack, making most of them jump as it bowed to Harry, happiness shining in her eyes. It wore a white wrap that had the Potter insignia proudly embossed on it.

"Welcome back, Master Harry," The House Elf said brightly. "Will you be staying this time?"

Harry shook his head. "I have some people I have to go find but I do have guests. Could you make sure they settle in alright? Their belongings should still be in the Entrance Hall."

The House Elf bowed again, ears flapping. It seemed almost giddy now that Harry had given it something to do.

"This is Calla," Harry introduced. "She's one of the Potter House Elves working in this place." His eyes sharpened just a little. "Neither she nor the others are to be treated with anything less than the utmost respect, understand?"

The Prewett children all nodded solemnly as Heather smiled. "Of course, Harry."

Harry nodded briskly back at them as he pushed in his chair. "I'll be back soon then."

"Wait!" Aster leapt to his feet. "Take me with you! I can help."

Harry paused in the doorway and instead of the sympathetic 'not this time' that his father and uncle usually gave him and Aster still half-expected, his surrogate brother simply motioned to his mum.

"Ask your mother," He said before turning away to exchange a few last words with Calla.

Ten minutes later, Aster had rushed upstairs to the East Wing to choose a bedroom before rushing back downstairs to join Harry, and then they were off, Aster Side-Along-Apparating since he had know idea where they were going.

"Our house?" Aster blinked, puzzled as they landed in front of the Prewett home. "Why are we here?"

"Just in case Dumbledore decided to let your father and uncle go, they'll have returned here first," Harry peered inside. "Though I suppose not. We'll have to head to Hogwarts then."

"_Why_ is Dumbledore doing this?" Aster asked as they quickly poked through the house just in case a note had been left.

"The thing about Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice muffled as it came from the next room. "Is that he needs to be in control. He's been playing leader for so long and is so used to everyone doing what he says that he _expects_ it now. Anything less is unacceptable."

"He sounds like Voldemort," Aster commented, and then blanched when he realized he had said it loud enough for Harry to hear.

Harry just scoffed as they met up at the front door again. "If he doesn't pull his head out of his arse, he will be. Now come on, we're going to Hogwarts."

**r.R.r**

"I'm going to kill him," Gideon growled as he paced the length of the Headmaster's office, his hands bloody from having tried to force the office door open after blasting it, cursing it, and hexing it hadn't worked. Apparition was out of the question and the floo powder was nowhere to be seen.

Fabian, calmer than his twin, had taken a seat in one of the guest chairs. Calmer, but no less angry. He and Gideon had reluctantly flooed to Hogwarts when Dumbledore had summoned them, only to be met by meaningless drivel about that night's raid that they hadn't been planning on participating in anyway. Then the man had brought up Harry, asking them if they had contacted him, and when they had denied it, mental shields fully erected, the Headmaster had gone on to question them about contacting their family. When they had finally tried to leave, Dumbledore had said something about the Greater Good before stunning them, and by the time they had woken up again, the office had been sealed up like a prison.

"I swear, Fabian, if they touch Heather or one of the kids, I'll wring his scrawny neck myself," Gideon promised, directing a Blasting Curse at an empty portrait for lack of anything better to do. If they couldn't get out of here, they would wreck the place at the very least.

"My wife's not stupid, Gideon," Fabian said in a measured tone of voice, fingers knitted tightly together. "She won't go to the station alone. Harry will be with her."

This, at least, settled Gideon somewhat. If nothing else, Harry had an almost unholy protective streak when it came to the people he cared about, something Gideon had slowly come to realize.

But that didn't stop the helpless frustration of being stuck in Dumbledore's office from welling up inside him and he was just about to start pacing again when muffled voices reached his ears. Several feet away, Fabian rocketed to his feet, fishing out his wand with a steely glint in his eyes. If it was Dumbledore on the other side of that door, he was in for a world of pain.

"-into the Headmaster's office?"

The twins exchanged a glance. "Aster!" They chorused and Fabian surged forward to bang on the door.

"Aster, is that you? Dumbledore, I am going to hex you six ways to Sunday if my son has so much as a scratch on him, do you hear me?!"

There was a bang and a yelp and then the door slid open, and Fabian and Gideon were left gaping as Aster and Harry stepped into the office.

"Loud and clear," Harry said mildly, wand raised and eyes scanning the room. "There's not so much as a papercut on him-"

Harry didn't like hugs; that was nothing new, but Gideon pulled him into one anyway, trying to convey how grateful he was to have the younger man looking out for his family, and perhaps Harry understood because, while he stayed stiff and awkward in the embrace, he allowed it for several seconds before pulling away, only to be accosted by Fabian who had just finished checking his son over.

"Alright, alright, enough, I get it," Harry muttered, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. "In case you've forgotten, we're still in Dumbledore's office and I doubt he wouldn't notice someone breaking into it. We have to go."

"But how'd you break in in the first place?" Fabian asked as they hurried after Harry.

"...Hogwarts likes me," Harry said evasively. "She always has. And... bloodlines come in handy sometimes. Heirs are allowed free entry in and out of the school, including the Headmaster's office."

Gideon almost tripped as they hurried down a flight of stairs. "Heir of...?"

"Gryffindor," Harry said curtly. "This way."

They skidded to a halt in front of the statue of a humpback witch.

"Ah," Despite the situation, Fabian exchanged a grin with Gideon. "Good old Gunhilda of Gorsemoor."

A moment later, they were all scrambling through, heading for Honeydukes as the entrance closed behind them.

**r.R.r**

Three hours, a tearful reunion, and a delicious dinner later, Fabian and Gideon were both sitting in a clean but rather lonely-looking drawing room with Harry, neither knowing how to thank the younger man for taking care of their family.

"Thanks, Harry," Fabian finally said. "I don't know what would've happened if Dumbledore had gotten to Heather and the kids."

"You would've blown his head off," Harry deadpanned, and Fabian huffed.

"I might still do that," He sighed. "He had no right abducting us like that."

"I will definitely still do that," Gideon interjected. "Heather doesn't want the kids anywhere near that castle anymore, and I have to say I agree with her. We can pull your kids out and home-school them. And we'll contact Molly and her family-"

An elbow in his ribs shut him up and he immediately regretted his words when he noticed the unreadable expression on Harry's face. "I mean..."

Harry just sighed and waved a dismissive hand as he rose to his feet. "It's late. You should head to bed. Don't worry about going back to your place for a while. I think it would be safer for all of you if you stayed here for now. Not that you have to, of course. You're not prisoners or anything. That's not to say I'm kicking you out-"

He stopped, looking drawn and pale and lost, and Fabian kicked his twin surreptitiously for his big mouth before nodding agreeably at their host.

"Thank you, Harry," He said again, warm and sincere. "Don't stay up too late yourself. Goodnight."

The last the twins saw before they closed the drawing room door behind them was Harry curling back up on the armchair, no doubt not planning on sleeping that night at all.

**r.R.r**

"Are you an idiot?" Fabian hissed, storming down one corridor that he hoped would lead him to the East Wing. It wasn't often that he was mad at Gideon but this was definitely one of those times. "Why would you bring up Molly in front of him?"

"Yes, I know, I wasn't thinking," Gideon snapped back moodily. "And I wasn't going to ask him if they could come here. I was just planning to owl them so that they would know we're alright."

"Just don't mention them at all," Fabian turned a corner and was relieved to see the majestic lion statues that sat at the entrance of the East Wing. "We'll figure out what to do next tomorrow. And for Merlin's sake, don't piss off our host or you'll have Aster, Lily, Heather, _and_ Fred and George on your case."

Fabian wouldve slammed his bedroom door if Heather hadn't already been inside. As it is, he scowled one last time at his twin before closing the door behind him with a firm click.

Gideon sighed and headed for his own room. He promised he would apologize tomorrow.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-June 21****st****, 2003-**

Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. He hadn't had a particularly good night either and, having only just returned from directing clean-up of last night's raid, finding his office empty and partially destroyed didn't do much for his mood.

He had thought, after being quite sure that the white owl was indeed Hedwig, that it would be relatively easy to get to Harry through the Prewett family, but not only had the Aurors he had sent to retrieve Fabian's wife and children failed, the Prewett twins were also gone and Albus had yet to find them. The blaring headlines only brought home just how bad a turn his plan had taken.

"-UNDER YOUR JURISDICTION! HOW COULD YOU SEND HER TO APPREHEND THE PREWETTS! AND HUNTING DOWN HARRY? HAVE YOU GONE MAD, DUMBLEDORE?!"

To make matters worse, Severus was conspicuously absent so Albus couldn't subtly shift Sirius' ire in Hogwarts' resident Potions Master's direction instead. The only upside to all this was that he at least new for certain that the inner circle of the Order more or less knew of Fabian and Gideon Prewett's survival. The Prewett twins had disobeyed him, and Albus had to wonder if Harry had a hand involved in that. After all, everyone was perfectly content to go along with his plans for the Greater Good before the boy was released.

"I've had enough,"

Albus tuned back in when it seemed Sirius was finally winding down and he let his somber grandfatherly mask surface as he surreptitiously surveyed the rest of the room. The Weasleys, even Fred and George, were sitting on the far right along with Hermione and Neville, while Tonks, Alastor, Kingsley, and Remus were sitting on the left, closest to Sirius.

"This was all simply a misunderstanding, Sirius," Albus began, but was cut off almost immediately.

"No, that's it," The dog Animagus shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair as he rose to his feet. "I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of yelling at you every time you pull more of your shite, only for you to do it again the moment all our backs are turned. Next thing we'll know, James and Lily will be popping back up."

There was a stilted silence, and then Sirius, voice silkily dangerous, enquired, "They _aren't_ alive, are they?"

Even Albus couldn't hide his genuine surprise. "James and Lily died, Sirius," He confirmed, frowning. The Potters had had to die for the Prophecy to come to be. Unfortunate though it was, it had been for the Greater Good.

Sirius nodded curtly before continuing. "Don't think we don't know how much you want to get your hands on Harry. He's not going to have anything to do with that Prophecy and the sooner you get that through your head, the better. But I won't have any part in it anymore. Two-thirds of the Order has been sent out continuously to track Harry's whereabouts instead of concentrating on the war, and no, finding Harry is _not_ helping the war effort."

Sirius glared for a moment but pressed on before Albus could get a word in edgewise. "I think Fred and George have the right idea. I can still help without being in the Order. So,"

A badge marked with the phoenix that all Order members had and could use as a pass into St. Mungos and the Ministry of Magic clattered on the dining table and slid across the surface before coming to a stop in front of a stunned Headmaster.

"I quit," Sirius said quietly, ignoring the gasps and murmurs around him. "I've got an apartment all set up to move into so you can continue using Grimmauld Place as Order Headquarters. I hate this place anyway. I'll receive word of the raids like the twins and help out that way. But I refuse to answer to you any longer."

A flick of his wand and several bags appeared at his feet. Picking them up, Sirius strode for the door, leaving a shocked audience in his wake.

"Sirius, wait!"

Albus was pleased at the interruption. Surely Remus would be able to talk some sense into the hotheaded Black.

"How many rooms does your apartment have?" Remus continued and Albus' heart plummeted as another phoenix badge joined the one already on the table.

Sirius grinned from the doorway, the first genuinely happy expression anyone had seen on the man's face since Harry's release. "Five. I thought I'd get a big place just in case other people needed accommodations."

"Give me ten minutes to pack," Remus raced upstairs. "I'm coming with you."

"Me too," Neville of all people stood, discarding his badge without hesitation. "Sirius, do you think-"

"Of course," Sirius nodded almost gleefully.

Albus stood, drawing himself up and radiating power. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that," He ignored the sudden spike of tension. "In these hard times, the Order must stand united-"

"Then you stand united all you want," Sirius retorted as Neville followed Remus upstairs. "We're not in the Order anymore. And before you try to Obliviate us or something, remember where you are and who else is here. My ancestral home, no matter how detestable, won't allow its Head to be harmed here, and you've got two Aurors and an ex-Auror in attendance."

Albus inwardly grinded his teeth but outwardly affected a concerned facade. "Sirius, I would never do such a thing."

Sirius snorted derisively. "You abducted two people without cause, Albus. An Obliviate wouldn't be that far a stretch."

Albus sighed. "I did not abduct anyone, Sirius. Since when have we started believing everything the _Prophet_ prints? I assure you, neither Fabian nor Gideon are being held against their will."

"Because they _escaped_," Sirius snapped. "Minerva owled me the moment she discovered your office entrance wide open. She found it suspicious that the office was a mess and there was no floo powder on the mantel."

Albus made a mental note to keep an eye on the Deputy Headmistress. "Sirius," He tried again. "I'm sure she was mistaken-"

"We're done," Remus announced, trunks floating behind them as he and Neville joined Sirius at the bottom of the stairs.

"Wonderful," Sirius shot a hard glare in Albus' direction. "Stay away from Harry, Albus. I've failed James and Lily twice already and I don't even want to think about how much of a let-down I've been to Harry, but I will not fail any of them again. Touch my godson and I won't rest until you've paid for it in full."

The front door slammed shut behind them and the portrait in the hall automatically started shrieking.

"Well, not that the banshee isn't fine company," Fred started, getting up.

"But it seems we're done here," George concluded, also rising to his feet.

"Stay away from Harry," They chimed before sweeping from the room. Albus could still feel his nose throb from the Stinging Hexes that the twins had hit him with the moment they had laid eyes on him. Again, something they wouldn't have dreamed of doing before Harry had come back, which only reinforced Albus' belief; the boy had to be brought back under his control before he turned Dark.

"Now then, Albus," He glanced up at Molly whose voice was deceptively soft. "Won't you explain to me what right you had to keep my brothers from me?"

It was going to be a long day.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-June 23****nd****, 2003-**

Harry made sure to shut himself in the West Wing Private Chambers after bringing Fred and George to Potter Manor a few hours ago. Or maybe it was a few days ago; he was always a bit iffy on the time.

The children had been introduced to their prankster cousins and they, especially Briar, had hit it off great. George had still been a little stiff with his uncles but held no grudge against Heather or the kids and their laughter alone had brightened the lonely manor like nothing else.

On the other hand, Harry didn't know if he wanted to be sick because of the part of him that hated how happy they were or the part of him that hated how jealous he was of them. Either way, he knew it was wrong and pathetic but he couldn't look at them without wanting to scream so he had retreated to Slytherin's Tower and shut himself in. Not even another Potter could've gotten in now; only a Parslemouth with Potter blood could access all the rooms Salazar had built.

He blinked and the light streaming in through an open window changed. He was sure only a few seconds had passed but it had been noon a moment ago and now the sun was setting.

He turned when a House Elf – Fane, he remembered, the Head of the Potter House Elves – popped into the room.

"Master," Fane bowed formally but there was no mistaking the concern on his face. "It has been two days since you have locked yourself in here. Your guests are worried, as are the House Elves. Perhaps you would like to dine downstairs tonight?"

Harry stared for a long minute before slowly nodding his head. He couldn't worry Fred and George. They had taken him in and helped him when no one else would – _could_, because he couldn't trust them – and hadn't ever complained no matter how screwed in the head he acted.

"I'll be down in a moment," Harry promised. "I just need a shower."

**r.R.r**

"If he doesn't want to eat with us, we should just leave him alone. It's not like he can't get his House Elves to bring him food. If he wants to be rude-"

Whatever patience Aster had been clinging on to dissipated as he rounded on his brother. "Basil, _shut up_. The only one being rude here is you. At the very least, mind your manners while you're in _Harry's_ house."

Basil glared back defiantly. "What's so good about _Harry_ anyway? You and Lily treat him like he's family or something."

"That's because he _is_ family," Aster growled. "In case you've attracted a bout of selective memory loss, Harry's the one who saved us just a couple of days ago. He watches out for us."

"You could've handled those Aurors," Basil insisted stubbornly. "We didn't need him there. I don't know why Mum brought him along to pick us up."

"Hey, Basil?" Briar cut in before Aster could retort. The fifteen-year-old was hanging upside down on the sofa, playing a Muggle video game. "Out of curiosity, what have you got against Harry?"

"I don't have anything against him!" Basil scowled. "But he's- you know..."

Briar didn't look away from his game. "No, I don't know."

Basil's face slowly reddened. "He's- you know, _crazy_. Shouldn't he be locked-"

There was bang, a crash, and a loud yelp of pain, and Aster and Briar were suddenly on their feet trying to wrestle a shrieking Lily off of their brother, who was holding a bloody nose. Their sister must have been eavesdropping just out of sight.

"You stupid prat!" Lily screamed, flailing against Aster and Briar's firm hold. "You inconsiderate git! Locked up?! I'll lock you up and see how you like it! You-"

"What's going on in here?!"

Their father burst into the room, wand raised, with their uncle, cousins, and mother at his heels, only for all five of them to skid to a stop when they saw the scuffle in the living room.

"What the blazes is going on?" Gideon barked, moving forward to fix Basil's nose.

"Basil called Harry crazy!" Lily accused at once, finally going limp between Aster and Briar. "He said Harry should be locked up!"

Fabian and Gideon both looked horrified and Heather looked appalled. Fred and George remained expressionless, their displeasure clear but not willing to interfere in this.

"That's not what I meant!" Basil said defensively. "I just thought maybe he should go to St. Mungos or something. I mean, he was fresh out of Azkaban and then he started talking to Lily-"

"He's not crazy!" Lily interrupted shrilly, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. "He was perfectly normal when I met him. He helped me with my trunk-"

"He has something against Dumbledore!" Basil cut her off this time. "We never had anything against Dumbledore until he came along! And now Dumbledore's been trying to read Lily's letters. He probably just came along and befriended Lily so he could get back at Dumbledore for something stupid. He-"

"That's enough," Heather's voice cut through the tension like a knife through melted butter. "Aster, Briar, let Lily go. Lily, calm down, or take a walk. I will _not_ tolerate fighting."

Lily scrubbed at her eyes before crossing her arms and settled for glaring at Basil.

"Basil," Heather moved into the room, stern eyes focused on her son. "I can assure you that Harry has no ulterior motives for befriending Lily or any of us. And certain things have been revealed concerning Albus Dumbledore that has changed our viewpoint of him. We have our own reasons for distrusting him, in addition to Harry's. Harry's reasons are his own and if you want to know, then you will _ask_ him, nothing more. And yes, Harry has no doubt been affected by Azkaban, but that gives you no right to say what you said, especially when you are under Harry's hospitality. Do I make myself clear?"

Basil nodded reluctantly, obviously still resentful, but no longer acting out on it.

As a House Elf popped in and announced dinner and everyone filed out of the room, Briar stooped down and whispered in his younger brother's ear, "Keep your opinions to yourself, Basil, or a bloody nose will be the least of your worries. I don't care if you refuse to give Harry a chance, but Aster's right; Harry _is _family. If Dumbledore's after him, then our esteemed Headmaster just put himself on my prank list."

Briar paused and considered his rather pale-faced brother for a moment. He loved a good joke and was a prankster at heart but he was also fiercely protective of his family. As easygoing as he was, anyone who had picked on Basil when the redhead had first entered Hogwarts found themselves the laughingstock of the school the very next day. The same streak of bad luck had happened to anyone Briar had caught bullying Lily when she had come to Hogwarts. Briar looked out for his family behind his jokes and pranks and nobody truly realized how well he always got his revenge unless he pointed it out to them.

"Be careful, Bro," Briar straightened and patted Basil on the shoulder as his goofy smile surfaced again. "I've got some new pranks I've been meaning to test. I'll be looking for volunteers to test them on."

He fished out his video game and started blasting at alien ships again, whistling a merry tune as he headed for the dining room. Sometimes, he wondered if the Sorting Hat had been wrong to rank his loyalty and dedication over his cunning and resourcefulness. It had spent a hell of a lot of time deliberating before finally putting him in Hufflepuff over Slytherin after all.

**r.R.r**

There was a moment of silence when Harry stepped into the dining room before George half-rose from his seat and motioned him over.

"Hey Harry," He greeted as if Harry hadn't disappeared for two days. "Calla said you would be down for dinner tonight. Have you even been eating? You've lost weight! Again!"

Harry offered a decidedly discomfited half-smile as he took the seat between George and Lily. "I lost track of time," He murmured.

"Well, never mind," Fred butted in cheerfully. "We'll just have to fatten you up tonight. You know your House Elves make a mean kidney pie. I may never want to leave!"

Harry's half-smile slipped for a nanosecond before it returned, strained and humourless. "Thanks for waiting then," He said instead. "Let's eat."

Never one for long periods of silence, the two sets of twins plus Briar were soon cracking jokes and telling dramatic tales of their pranks during their time at Hogwarts and they soon had almost the entire table laughing.

Only Harry, who hadn't laughed for a very long time, and Lily, who was still furious with Basil and was concentrating more on her surrogate brother than the small talk, stayed quiet.

"Harry?" Lily ventured during a lull in the conversation.

Harry glanced at her questioningly, having eaten a salad and not much else.

"Could you take me flying tomorrow?" She asked earnestly. "I've been practicing with the school brooms and I'm alright on them now but..."

Lily mentally grinned triumphantly when green eyes gradually brightened and a tiny but honest smile lit up his expression.

"Sure," Harry agreed. "Tomorrow after breakfast?"

Lily nodded eagerly. It wasn't that she particularly liked flying but she loved spending time with Harry and she hadn't been able to do much of that besides during last Christmas.

"I thought you didn't like flying?"

Lily snapped her head around and glared at Basil. She swore that if he ruined this, she would make him pay.

"I didn't before I started," She said loftily. "And then I tried it and it was more fun as I got used to it."

"You don't even like Quidditch," Basil said petulantly.

Lily flushed red and scowled at him. It was true she had no real interest in the sport but-

"I don't particularly like it either," Harry spoke up in a rare offer of his own opinion. "I just like flying and Quidditch gave me a chance to do that."

Lily almost slumped in relief. "Annie checked you up in the trophy room," She told him, throwing a smug look at Basil as she delivered their findings. "You're the youngest Seeker in over a century! Madame Hooch told us all about how you made the Gryffindor team in your first year."

Harry looked thoughtful at this. "Did she? That's odd. I wasn't particularly close to her during my years there."

"You made the team in your first year?" Fabian enquired. "Isn't there a rule against that?"

Harry nodded, glancing at Fred and George who were both grinning broadly. "Yes, but the team needed a Seeker and I was good enough for the position so Professor McGonagall bent the first year rule for me."

"Forget good enough," George added his two Knuts. "Harry's a natural on a broom. I still remember the day our Captain told us about our newest addition. Oliver was practically skipping. He was definitely crying when we won the Quidditch Cup in our fifth year. Oliver's seventh. And Harry's third, of course. Best catch of his career."

"Oh, I don't know, George," Fred smirked. "There was first year when he caught the Snitch with his mouth-"

"You caught the Snitch with your mouth?" Briar's eyes had lit up. "I've never seen that happen."

Harry hastily shook his head. "No, it was an accident. I was in danger of falling off my broom-"

"Can't even fly a broom decently," Basil muttered, and Harry faltered mid-sentence.

"Basil, apologize!" Heather snapped, eyes blazing.

Basil flushed and mumbled an apology, gaze focused on his pasta. Harry shrugged awkwardly and fell silent again, finishing off the last of his salad before pushing his plate away.

"Thank you for dinner, Libby," Harry said softly when the Head Kitchen House Elf popped in to collect his plate. "It was delicious."

Libby beamed at her Master's obvious sincerity before whisking the plates away. "Will Master Harry be wanting desert?"

"Not today, thank you," Harry inclined his head at the rest of the table as he rose to his feet. "I'm feeling a bit tired so I'll be retiring for the night. Goodnight."

Before Lily could think of a reason to keep him here, Harry turned to her and added, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Lily."

Lily nodded enthusiastically and called back a goodnight. As soon as her surrogate brother had disappeared though, she rounded on Basil, ready to skewer him with insults, but Briar of all people beat her to it.

"Way to go, Basil," Briar slapped his brother on the back with fake cheer. "Just when we got him talking, you go and ruin it. Feel like turning purple tomorrow?"

Without another word, Briar pushed his empty plate aside, thanked the House Elf that came to gather it, before excusing himself from the table. No one missed the scheming smirk on his face. Lily caught Fred and George exchanging a meaningful glance and guessed that their newfound cousins had just found a favourite amongst them.

Basil spent the rest of the evening sulking and Lily holed herself in the library with Aster until her mother came to get her. She went to bed without complaint; she didn't want to sleep in tomorrow.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-June 24****th**** – 30****th****, 2003-**

The next week was spent relaxing in Potter Manor, with the floo set up so that Fred and George could freely move between the mansion and their shop. Fabian and Gideon also left to meet with the Order and returned with news that the Wizarding world was once again in an uproar with no one knowing what had happened to their Saviour and the Order divided.

"Sirius, Remus, and Frank's kid all quit," Fabian had reported. "They've got an apartment now but no one knows where it is. Xeno's girl's never really been part of the Order but I hear she doesn't stay in Grimmauld Place anymore either. Dumbledore's been trying to find out where we've been staying. I told him I wouldn't be able to tell him even if I wanted to. He's hopping mad."

Harry had been surprised to hear of their resignation but hadn't let it bother him. What they did didn't concern him.

Instead, he continued studying and practicing magic, especially his Animagus form. Or forms, he supposed. The non-magical form he had already mastered but the magical form was still out of his reach. He didn't dare let it out that he had two though; _nobody_ had two, and only Tonks knew that he had no intention of registering, and she had promised not to tell. He didn't want any rumours leaking out from other sources.

All he wanted was to stay out of the way until he could find a way out of this mess. Little did he know, however, that he would have to make his choice very soon. After all, there was no middle ground in a war.

**r.R.r...r.R.r**

**-July 1****st****, 2003-**

DEATH EATERS ATTACK DIAGON ALLEY

COUNTLESS DEAD, COUNTLESS INJURED

THE WAR HAS COME HOME AT LAST

Harry shifted his gaze to Heather who was curled up on the sofa, having been waiting all day for Fabian, Aster, and Gideon to come home, as well as Fred and George. All five had gone to stop the Death Eater raid on Diagon Alley yesterday and here was irrefutable proof that they had failed. All they could hope for now was that none of them were amongst the dead or seriously injured, but Harry hadn't even been able to get through to the Order. The Ministry was chaotic at the moment with everyone trying to contact anyone who could tell them if their loved ones were still alive.

Harry put aside the newspaper and drew out his wand. Nothing had changed; he still didn't want to fight, and he certainly still had a choice in the matter. He could stay at Potter Manor and wait until either the Light side won, which would probably be years in the future, or the Dark side won, in which his own death would be following quite soon what with the rest of the world waiting to ball them from the planet.

But Fred and George were still fighting and Harry absolutely refused to lose them. Aster had become a brother of sorts to him and he would never be able to live with himself if the barely-of-age young man died. And while Fabian and Gideon could be annoying, Harry had grown fond of them as well. And Lily would cry if any of them didn't come home.

It would be easy to lock himself in Slytherin Tower and lose track of time again. Pretend reality didn't have anything to do with him and live in his own head with his nightmares and memories and little else.

But it wouldn't be right, and Harry had always tried to do the right thing.

He released a long sigh as he finally made up his mind. He glanced at the doorway when a shadow fell into the room.

"You're going after them." It wasn't a question and Harry didn't flinch from Briar's knowing eyes.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

He looked around before conjuring a blanket and tucking it around Heather.

"You're in charge now, understand?" Harry looked squarely at Briar. He didn't know the boy quite well enough yet to say for sure but if he was anything like Fred and George as Harry was beginning to suspect, then the fifteen-year-old would manage just fine under his new responsibilities. "Take care of your mother and siblings."

Briar didn't smile. Instead, he squared his shoulders and straightened to his full height. He nodded once, firmly. "I will. I promise."

Harry did smile, a little sad and a little proud. It wasn't right for a child to look so serious but there was no other choice.

"Fane," Harry called out next and the House Elf appeared, both his outer cloak and invisibility cloak already in hand.

"Take care of the house and its occupants," Harry instructed as he shrugged on his outer cloak and stuffed his invisibility cloak in a pocket spelled with an Invisible Extension Charm.

Fane bowed low. "May your ancestors watch over you, Master Harry."

The rest of the House Elves, all twenty of them, popped into existence behind Fane and bowed as well.

"We wish you wisdom and strength in battle," They chorused. "And speed and luck in all your endeavours. Be safe, Master Harry."

Harry nodded sharply, briefly laid a gentle hand on Briar's shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, before turning to an open window and leaping outside.

Behind him, Briar rushed forward, no laughter on his face as he watched a dark shadow swoop away into the night.

"Good luck, Harry," Briar echoed the House Elves. "Be safe."


	16. The Calm Before the Storm

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter...**

**Bit shorter but I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next bit so I'll post this first.**

* * *

**Chapter 16 – The Calm Before the Storm**

"_Power isn't control at all — power is strength, and giving that strength to others. A leader isn't someone who forces others to make him stronger; a leader is someone willing to give his strength to others so that they may have the strength to stand on their own."  
-Beth Revis, Across the Universe_

* * *

**-July 2****nd****, 2003-**

George opened his eyes and croaked, "Fuck me sideways."

Somewhere to his left, Fred snorted and then coughed feebly, "I can't say I disagree. Nice to know you've finished your beauty sleep though. Can you see anything?"

George squinted at the dark ceiling overhead. "Fuck, no. Hell, I can barely move my head. I _can't_ move my legs. Bloody _fuck_."

Fred sighed. "I've been through all the swear words suitable for our current less-than-agreeable situation and then some, so save it. I can't move either. I've been waiting for you to wake up and hopefully get us out of here but I guess that plan's scuppered."

George groaned, wincing as something creaked in his neck when he moved it. He could wiggle his fingers and feel his toes as well – which were in a hell of a lot of pain – and he had read somewhere that if you could do all that, then your spine was at least alright.

"What the hell happened?" George wheezed out, throat dry. He could've killed for some water. "One minute we were fighting Death Eaters-"

"-and the next minute, said Death Eaters blew up our shop and buried everything under it," Fred finished. "Including us."

Because he couldn't think of anything better to say to that, George repeated, "Fuck."

They were quiet for what could've been a few minutes to a bit more than that. And then George remembered that he and Fred hadn't been fighting alone.

"Where are Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon? Oh shit, where's Aster?"

"Dunno," Fred answered dully. "I've been shouting for them ever since I woke up. I can just make you out from here but I can't see any of them. They're either not within hearing distance, still unconscious, or..."

He trailed off and George was grateful for that. He tried not to think about it either.

"Well, we have to get out of here somehow," George grunted and tried to wriggle sideways but the agony that rushed through his entire body the moment he jostled his legs, which were pinned under a ton of debris, advised him to stop.

He stopped.

"Well, if you think of anything, give me a heads-up," Fred called back, voice faint, and George stilled as the last of the haze that had been fogging his brain lifted.

"Fred?" He called roughly, trying to quell the fear rising in his throat. "Fred, how badly are you injured?"

There was no answer for a moment, but just when George was about to call again, hysteria mounting, Fred answered hoarsely, "Not too bad. Got banged on the head, same as you, probably. I can move my arms but not very much, and my right arm was bleeding pretty bad. I managed to slow it down at least, though my favourite robes were given to the cause. Legs are okay; just stuck like yours."

George didn't like the sound of that arm but there wasn't anything he could do about it. His own right arm was pretty banged up too; he was fairly certain something was at least fractured, but at least it wasn't bleeding. His left wrist felt sprained but he tried to feel around for his wand. Unfortunately for him, all this achieved was more pain and exhaustion on his part. With a huff, he went limp again and tried to ignore the aches in his body.

"Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah, George?"

"...Do you think Harry will come after us?"

There was no hesitation in his brother's reply and it sent a ridiculous amount of relief thrumming through him.

"Yes."

**r.R.r**

Sirius was swearing up a storm as he dangled precariously over the edge of the fourth floor of Flourish and Blotts. The first, second, and third floors were gone, leaving only a dark hole beneath him.

"Whose bright idea was it to enlarge Flourish and Blotts?" He grumbled angrily to himself as he tried to claw his way up once again, only to freeze when the floorboards groaned ominously. His wand was long gone, either below him or somewhere under the splintered bookshelves.

"I always knew books were dangerous," He continued mumbling feverishly, concentrating on his situation and nothing else. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "Who needs books anyways? Stupid books. Stupid bloody books-"

"Sirius, is that you?"

Sirius stilled briefly, breath freezing in his lungs, and he almost lost his grip when he craned his head and tried to catch a glimpse of the familiar voice's owner through the darkness of night and the wreckage.

"Remus?" He called back, disbelief mixed with hope.

"Yes, Sirius, it's me," His long-time friend confirmed. "Do you make it a habit of talking to yourself after a Death Eater raid?"

Sirius choked out a laugh. "I thought- I thought you had fallen! I saw you fall! You and Greyback-! And-"

Remus chuckled, tired but satisfied as well. "I managed to roll out of the way just before the roof collapsed. But I'm pretty sure Greyback's down there. I think a book hit me on the head though. I just came around. Head's still a bit fuzzy."

Sirius laughed again, great wads of relief in the sound. "I always said books were dangerous. That just proves it."

Remus might have snarked something back but the entire structure suddenly shifted dangerously, leaving Sirius scrambling for a purchase as the floorboards cracked even further.

"Sirius, where are you?" Remus sounded alarmed.

"Over here," Sirius waved his fingers in the direction of Remus' voice. "I wouldn't recommend joining me. It's a bit breezy, especially-"

"Sirius, now is no time to joke," Remus cut in, and a second later, Sirius finally managed to catch sight of greying hair and worried eyes. "Oh Merlin, why do you always have to get in the worst trouble possible?"

"Must be my natural charm," Sirius managed a slightly strained grin. "You know the women love the trouble magnet type."

"I don't know what women you're talking about," Remus grumbled as he tentatively stepped closer. "I lost my wand to Greyback when the place came down. I'll just-"

He took another step forward and Sirius yelped as he dropped another foot.

"Stop! Stop!" He cried frantically. "Just go for help, Moony! You can't do anything here. Find someone with a wand who can levitate me out."

"I don't want to leave you here alone," Remus objected anxiously, glancing around. "Can't you turn into Padfoot and climb out?"

"Don't want to risk it," Sirius glanced down again. "If Padfoot's claws can't get a purchase on the wood, I won't have time to change back and grab hold again. It's just lucky this beam fell here."

Remus wavered, backing away a little. "Alright, I'll-"

He cut himself off and jerked sharply to the right, just as a snarl cut the air and a large blur barrelled out from underneath a pile of broken wood.

"REMUS!" Sirius shouted as whoever it was crashed into Remus and sent them both rolling out a large hole in the wall. Hopefully, being a werewolf, the fall wouldn't hurt Remus too badly.

And then he had no more time to worry about his friend as the wooden floorboards creaked and snapped, collapsing as it could no longer support the weight and movement on its surface.

Clinging onto the beam as he fell, nails and fingers bleeding as he struggled with gravity, Sirius gritted his teeth and bit back unbidden tears of pure frustration.

After Azkaban, whenever he thought about dying, he thought it would be James he would remember in his last moments, James and pranks and jokes and contentment because he would finally be able to join his best friend in the afterlife, but he was wrong. It wasn't James he recalled, but Harry.

Harry, his godson, his _own_ son in all but blood. Harry, whom he had wronged time and time again, abandoning him to chase after Wormtail, abandoning him to those despicable Muggles, abandoning him to _Azkaban_, and now abandoning him to survive in a world torn apart by war, and Sirius just _couldn't_ _do that anymore_.

With a bellow of rage borne from desperation, he managed to get his feet onto the beam as he fell and launched himself off the piece of wood in a reckless attempt to reach the parts of the floor that hadn't yet caved. His fingers just touched the wood and he managed to get a temporary grip on the very edge, only for it to crumble under his hands, and then he was falling, falling, falling-

"Mobilicorpus!" An achingly familiar voice sliced through the air and Sirius was suddenly airborne, floating amidst the falling pieces of wood before being levitated outside and finally onto flat ground.

The moment the spell released him, he sprang to his feet again, spinning around and almost giving himself whiplash. "_Harry_?"

Cool green eyes dismissed him with barely a glance as his godson – What was Harry doing here? How could Harry be here? Why was Harry here? – strode past him and pointed his wand at a section of the building. "Aresto Momentum!"

The structure slowed to a stop, held up by magic, and Harry moved on, cloak flapping behind him as he rounded the shop. Sirius all but tripped over thin air as he hurried after him.

"Remus, move!" Harry barked, and Sirius caught up just in time to see Remus and Greyback circling around each other on ground level, Greyback more wolf than human as he always tended to be.

To his credit, Remus didn't freeze in shock, sparing half a second to glance over his shoulder with widening eyes before throwing himself out of the way just as Greyback sprang forward with a snarl on his lips.

"Duro!" Harry snarled, wand slashing down, and the werewolf dropped mid-leap, turning into stone in the blink of an eye and thumping heavily to the ground.

"Confringo!" And the werewolf statue exploded, stone scattering on the ground as Greyback was completely, utterly destroyed, leaving Sirius gaping at how coldly efficient Harry had been when he dispatched his opponent.

Then again, Azkaban didn't leave you with a lot of mercy, especially towards enemies. Sirius could attest to that.

Silence fell and it took a moment for the dog Animagus to realize that there was an actual hush in the area. Even the muffled shouts of various individuals nearby had quieted and Sirius abruptly found a crowd of tired, dust-covered people gathering around them.

"Harry Potter," Murmurs swept up and down the street. "Harry Potter's here. Took down Greyback. Made it look easy. _Harry Potter_."

"Harry?" Remus approached them carefully, as if he wasn't sure whether or not Harry would flee if he moved too fast, and Sirius hastily took a few steps to the side so that Harry could see him but they weren't too close.

For his part, Harry just looked around, a heavy frown on his brow as he took in the damage and the survivors. No one made a move to say anything, only whispering amongst themselves and staring anxiously at the Boy-Who-Lived.

_They're waiting for Harry to do something_, Sirius realized with a rush of protective anger mixed with pity for the crowd. _They have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation so they're waiting for Harry to act. For Harry to tell them what to do._

The same thought must have struck his godson but then Harry just waved his wand and a few large chunks of stone scattered amongst the rubble floated under what remained of Flourish and Blotts to support the building. The caving structure slumped inwards but didn't collapse completely as the granite held it up.

Once that was done, he looked around again and then spoke up, "How many of you still have wands?"

Another wave of murmurs washed over the crowd before about three-quarters of them held up their wands.

Harry nodded decisively. "Let's split up," He suggested. "There's a lot to do. I know the Death Eaters hit us hard but so long as we keep getting back up and never let them walk all over us, so long as there's still at least one person fighting, they'll never win."

He paused for a moment. The clearing was silent. Not a single person looked away.

"We can start by digging through Diagon Alley," Harry continued, all business now as he stood at the centre of everyone's attention. "Repairs are important but, more than that, we should try to help out the injured and bury the dead first. Who here knows healing spells? Or Muggle first-aid?"

About two dozen people raised their hands this time and Harry turned to them. "Alright then, please start clearing an area where others can bring the injured. There's not much we can do in terms of medical supplies but there should be clean cloths and bandages in some of these shops, or just transfigure something until we get better supplies. We'll have to use what we have until St. Mungos can send trained healers down here... Actually,"

Harry straightened and called out, "Calla!"

A crack, and Sirius was suddenly blinking down at a House Elf standing beside his godson. His breath caught when he saw the Potter insignia on the cloth it was wearing. So Harry had been staying at Potter Manor.

"Calla, please get some of the other House Elves to help distribute medical supplies from the manor where needed," Harry instructed, and the Elf nodded briskly before popping back out again.

"I don't think it needs to be said that the House Elves are to be treated with respect?" Harry warned, and Sirius was pretty sure no one in the crowd was even thinking about disagreeing.

"Okay then, get to work," Harry dismissed, and the designated healers all nodded without protest and broke away from the crowd to do their assigned job.

"The rest of us can concentrate on digging people out," Harry surveyed the remaining witches and wizards. "Stay in groups of five or six and make sure you have at least two or three wands in each group. Those of you who don't have wands can help clear the rubble by hand just as well. Spread out, and when you find someone injured, get them to the healers as soon as possible. As for the dead,"

Harry eyed the clearing they were standing in and quickly levitated what remained of Greyback out of sight.

"Bring the dead here," He decided. "Lay them out and cover them with a sheet if you can."

Heads were already nodding again and Harry finished firmly, "Then let's get started. If you see anyone else uninjured, ask them to help as well. Be careful of any remaining Death Eaters, and make sure you don't overwork yourselves. It won't do anyone any good if you collapse while trying to save someone else."

The remainder of the crowd scattered, heading off in all directions in groups of five or six, and Sirius could only marvel at the way his godson had taken command of at least fifty people without even trying. Everyone had listened and Harry hadn't even used a Sonorous Charm.

It took him a moment longer to realize that Harry was shaking.

"Harry!" He stepped forward but didn't dare touch him. "Are you alright?"

Harry's lips pressed together. "Fine. I just don't like crowds."

Spinning on his heel, he started making his way down the street, and Sirius and Remus quickly followed.

"Where are you going?" Remus queried tentatively.

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Harry replied curtly. That he had replied at all made Sirius do a mental somersault. "Fred and George are somewhere in this mess. So are Fabian, Gideon, and Aster."

There was a pause, broken only by distant voices punctuating the night air and their own rapid footsteps.

"Shouldn't you go help?" Harry asked brusquely, cutting the uncomfortable silence between them.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a swift glance.

"Well," Sirius started warily. "You said we should break off into groups of five or six. Since we don't have that many, we'll just have to make do with three."

Harry shot him a withering look, clearly unimpressed with Sirius' logic, but he only turned to face forward again and-

Didn't say no.

Sirius did another mental somersault, which fell flat when Harry spoke again.

"Don't think, for one moment, that this means all's forgiven," Harry's voice was ice-cold and made both of them flinch. "But there are people's lives at stake here and I've got better things to do than give you both the cold shoulder."

They both nodded vigorously, not wanting to contradict him as they hurried down the debris-littered street.

They had to stop several times, more and more as they continued on, for the witches and wizards who, hesitantly at first and then, while still respectful, more boldly, approached Harry for advice and help, and Harry always gave it, a quiet suggestion here, a levitation spell there.

Sirius and Remus helped out where they could, moving rock and wood whenever Harry stopped to assist someone, but they still took the time to watch, discreetly, the way other people followed Harry's example. It was amazing to see everyone pick themselves up after such a devastating hit and carry on to the best of their abilities.

However, by the time they reached WWW, Harry had drawn his cloak tight around him, and while he always had a calm face for anyone who came up to him, there was no mistaking the fatigue draining what little colour Harry had had in the first place, leaving him almost grey-skinned and haggard.

"Harry?" Sirius ventured when his godson stumbled over a loose rock and swayed unsteadily in place for a few seconds. "If- If you want, I could move some of this rubble out of the way first."

Tired green eyes took a worrying moment to focus before Harry shook his head. "You can't use this wand. Ollivander said it was only for me."

Sirius hadn't been asking for the wand in the first place and Harry hadn't seemed completely against the idea so he pressed what little advantage he had.

"That's okay," He babbled. "I don't need the wand. I have two perfectly working hands. Plus Remus. That's four. I can move some of the looser debris first."

Harry watched him with a calculating look before pinning the same expression on Remus for a long minute. And then, with a dark scowl, Harry jabbed his wand in their direction, and Sirius was sure they were going to be transfigured into flobberworms or something, but his jaw almost dropped when the pain in his hands lessened. Blinking in astonishment, he watched the deeper cuts in them close and the gashes visible on Remus after his tussle with Greyback scab over.

"I don't want you dropping something and collapsing what's left of the shop," Harry explained stiffly as he eased himself down on a nearby half-broken bench.

"Thanks Harry," Sirius tried very hard not to smile. "And- And I haven't thanked you yet for saving my arse back at Flourish and Blotts. So thanks for that too."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I didn't do everything. If you hadn't jumped up at the last second, I wouldn't have made it in time. And I certainly didn't save you for you."

Sirius nodded frantically, his mouth running as it tended to do when he was nervous. "Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it. I wouldn't-"

An elbow in his gut shut him up. "Sirius!" Remus hissed in warning.

Harry had crossed his arms and his expression was getting darker by the second.

"Right," Sirius began backing away. "I'll stop now. Going now."

Spinning around, he beat a hasty retreat towards what remained of the joke shop, Remus at his heels.

"He talked to me!" Sirius muttered exultantly under his breath as he shifted some of the wreckage.

Remus gave him that half-pitying, half-frustrated look that Sirius always tried to ignore. He hated pity (like Remus thought he was crazy and mentally unfixable and was just trying to humour him), and it wasn't in his nature to give up once he had set his mind on something, and while he could never hope for forgiveness, he was desperate to at least have some contact with his godson.

"Sirius, I don't think he-"

"He talked to me," Sirius insisted stubbornly before adding almost scathingly, "You didn't even thank him for saving you."

Remus shot him a sharper look this time as they shifted a wooden beam aside. "I didn't exactly have the chance. You were running your mouth off again-"

"Don't push this on me!" Sirius said defensively. "I know you, Remus. You hate confrontation when it comes to people you care about. You think that just because Harry doesn't look like he wants to be in the same vicinity as us for the next decade if he can help it, you're doing him a favour by staying out of his way, when really, all you're doing is running away."

Remus paused to glare at him. "That's not true, Sirius. Have you ever thought maybe Harry _doesn't_ want to have anything to do with us?"

Sirius glared right back. "_Every day_. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to keep trying."

The werewolf just sighed. "You're grasping at straws, Sirius. A desperate attempt like that won't work-"

Sirius scowled fiercely and heaved a piece of splintered wall away, deliberately turning his back on Remus. "And you're just giving up without doing even that. I'm perfectly aware it's a desperate attempt seeing as I _am_ desperate."

And without another word, he stalked off in a snit. He refused to listen to Remus; the man was his best friend but he could give the world's most pessimistic bloke a run for his money. And besides, if Sirius really did start listening to him, to give up on Harry like Remus seemed to be doing, he would have nothing left but despair.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry had rejoined them and they had managed to clear away a large portion of the shop.

"Fred?" Harry called, peering into the dark hole they had uncovered. "George? Aster? Fabian? Gideon?"

Finally, Harry shrugged off his cloak and rolled up his sleeves. "I'm going in."

"No," Sirius blurted out before he could stop it. He ignored Remus' pointed frown and concentrated on Harry's guarded stare instead. "I can change into Padfoot. I'd fit better."

For a long minute, Harry continued studying him without expression. They both knew the main reason Sirius didn't want Harry in there; the place could collapse any second.

"They're all I have left," Harry said at last, and Sirius couldn't believe how much that hurt to hear. "They're waiting for me to help them. Besides, I can see better in the dark."

Sirius opened his mouth to question this but left his jaw hanging and got no further as his godson was suddenly replaced by a majestic-looking owl with sleek raven-black feathers and unmistakable jade-green eyes.

"You're an Animagus," Sirius breathed, wonder and pride and happiness swelling in his chest.

Sirius distantly recalled reading a book on Animagi all those years ago. He couldn't remember everything an owl represented but traits like wisdom, protector of souls, and guardian of change stood out in his mind. And an owl was a symbol of the air; Harry was born to fly.

Harry – Sirius would think of a Marauder name for him when he had time; he could at least call his godson that in his head if not to his face – gave him a look that bordered on smug pride, so like a carefree mix of James and Lily for the briefest of seconds that Sirius almost wanted to cry, before hopping through the makeshift entrance and out of sight. That expression alone made Sirius happier than he had been in the last eight years.

Glancing at Remus long enough to see his amazement, Sirius became Padfoot and bounded in after the owl.

**r.R.r**

_:This way,:_ Padfoot nudged the owl – Claws? Ebony? Nyx? Something more exotic? – along as his nose picked up the smell of blood.

As a dog, Padfoot could smell the touch of panic just below the surface emanating from the owl. He whined a note of comfort, instinctively pressing closer in the narrow space, only to slink meekly away again when the owl pecked at him, green eyes flaring with alarm.

They drew closer to the scent of blood, and a moment later, they emerged in a cave-like area where the support beams and magic hadn't yet failed, keeping the shop relatively upright.

In a flash, Padfoot was Sirius again and the owl became Harry, both of them needing to stoop so their heads wouldn't hit the low ceiling.

"Fred?" Harry called once more, his wand lighting up. "George?"

A heartbeat, and then another, and then, hopeful and relieved, "_Harry?_"

Sirius was almost bowled over as his godson shot past him, scrambling to the far side of the cave-in, the light from his wand highlighting the relief that brightened his eyes as he exchanged words with the Weasley twins, both redheads clearly elated to see him. Elated, but not surprised.

Sirius watched, heart clenching painfully, and wondered how he could have ever thought, for even a moment, that someone like this could kill innocents in cold blood.

**r.R.r**

By the time Amelia managed to extricate herself from all the complaints, demands, questions, and general grievances in the Ministry and finally Apparated down to Diagon Alley with a delegation of Aurors and a group of healers to assess the damage, she was in no mood to take shit from anyone.

So it came as a pleasant surprise to find that Diagon Alley looked less like a warzone than she had previously braced herself for. Those who weren't injured had picked themselves up and were in the process of digging out the wounded. There was even what looked like a makeshift hospital underway, with witches and wizards working side-by-side, using any method at their disposal to help those in need. There were Purebloods, Halfbloods, Muggleborns, even- were those House Elves?

It was shocking to say the least, but Amelia at least had the presence of mind to flag down someone nearby who looked somewhat less busy at the moment.

"What is going on here?" She asked, making sure she didn't sound too demanding. She hadn't missed the unimpressed looks directed at them when they had appeared.

The wizard she had hailed down huffed, casting a disdainful eye over them before answering.

"Harry Potter appeared shortly after the raid," The wizard explained. "Helped out a few Order members, Black and Lupin, before taking down Greyback. That's him over there," He pointed at a pile of shattered rock helpfully and Amelia heard a few of the healers and Aurors behind her gasp.

"Then he got us all up and about," The man continued. "Those of us who know healing spells are over in the medical camp and the rest of us are digging up the injured, helping out in any way we can. Potter even got his House Elves to lend a hand.

"The Death Eaters haven't won yet, Potter said," The man was obviously tired but he squared his shoulders and his chin jutted out just a little. "He's right, of course. No use moping; we'll carry on as usual and show You-Know-Who we haven't been beaten yet.

"And at the very least," The contemptuous look was back as he hefted the sack he was carrying once more and turned for the medical camp. "We're certainly doing more than you lot. Instead of hunting down an innocent man, shouldn't you be doing your best to stop this war?"

Amelia held out a hand when one of the Aurors – he certainly wasn't her Auror – stepped forward, red-faced and insulted at the dismissal.

When the war had started again, Fudge had agreed when Dumbledore had requested a team of Aurors to be placed under his command. They would still be a part of the Ministry's Auror Department but would be a correspondence of sorts between the government and Dumbledore's Order. Amelia had snorted and tried to call the old man on his bullshit – when there was backlash (and there would definitely be that sooner or later), who would take the blame? Certainly not Albus Bloody Dumbledore – but Fudge wouldn't be Fudge if the idiot _wasn't_ an idiot and she had been overruled.

Auror Thompson had been one of Dumbledore's and after her failed abduction of the Prewett family, Amelia had fired her with vindictive glee. It was the first time she had actually _liked_ Rita Skeeter's articles.

She had wanted to pull Dumbledore up on charges as well, of course, but there was no hard proof that the old goat had been behind it all. Thompson hadn't said anything of the sort, even going so far as to claiming that she had acted on his own. Amelia wouldn't be at all surprised if the woman was in that Merlin-damned Order now.

"Spread out," Amelia ordered. "Healers to the medical camp. The rest of you help where you can. Do _not_ attempt to order these people around or we'll have riots on our hands as well. We're already late as it is. Offer your assistance, _politely_, or I'll fire the lot of you before the end of the day."

The group scattered and Amelia sighed tiredly before flagging someone else down in the hopes that they could point her in Harry Potter's direction. Thanking him was the least she could do; in addition to getting the repairs started and taking care of the wounded, the man had also raised morale. She had heard from Tonks about Harry Potter; it was high time she met him in person.

**r.R.r**

It took an entire agonizing hour before enough of the shop had been moved away so that Fred and George could be levitated out. Luckily, Harry already had three of his House Elves nearby, two of which were actually trained in healing, and while the twins' numerous injuries would mean bed rest and mushy food for a while, they would okay.

Fabian and Gideon had also been dug out, several dozen feet away from Fred and George. Both had been soundly knocked out and were even worse off than their nephews. Broken bones and concussions, as well as several deep gashes, had Harry's stomach twisting with anxiety. The House Elves could only do so much in an environment like this and neither of them wanted to move the Prewetts. Remus was doing the best he could in lending a hand. He was, ironically enough, the only one with any in-depth knowledge of the medical practice. Even Harry only knew the basics and he hadn't done much more than read for the past year.

Just when Harry was ready to storm St. Mungos himself and throw money at the first healer he came across, several cracks sounded and five Healers appeared a few feet away, carrying their equipment and wearing apprehensive expressions as Harry pinned them all with a furious glare.

"Mr. Potter, I apologize for our late arrival," A female voice said from his right, and Harry turned to find a woman, grey-haired and wearing a monocle, approaching him with a brisk but polite demeanour.

Harry studied her cautiously before extending his hand to shake the one she held out. Amelia Bones, the DMLE Head that Tonks had told him about.

"It's alright," He nodded stiffly. "We've been managing."

He hesitated and glanced back at the healers now swarming Fabian and Gideon, automatically making sure they weren't harming them, before turning back to Amelia.

"And thank you for taking care of my money issues," He added in stilted tones. "I didn't really want to deal with the Ministry."

Amelia smiled warmly. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Potter. It is part of my job. My only regret is not providing you with a trial in the first place."

Harry nodded again and before the silence could get awkward, he quickly pushed on, "Fabian and Gideon's eldest son, Aster, should be around here as well but we haven't been able to find him."

Harry had already tried a Point-Me Spell and Sirius had nosed through the entire wreckage of the shop but neither of them had been able to detect more than a few flecks of blood. At the very least, they knew Aster wasn't too badly injured.

Amelia inclined her head. "We'll get right on that, Mr. Potter. Do you have a picture of him?"

Harry paused before fumbling for one of the photos he carried around in his pocket and forcing down an embarrassed flush. The Prewetts were all in the picture, something Heather had insisted on over the Christmas holidays, and Harry had been dragged into it, standing between Aster and Lily.

The other two photographs were of him and Tonks, and him and the Weasley twins. He'd like to think they reminded him of the people he still had to fight for.

The search party spread out, tracking spells and shouts permeating the air, but, six hours later, dusty and exhausted, no one could find a trace of Aster Prewett.


End file.
